The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle
by Heroine of the Valley
Summary: CONCLUDED!! And I fixed the lil problem with 10 and 11.
1. Apple of My Eye

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle

Ch 1

Apple of My Eye

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.  Sarah Grimes is my character._

Tom Marvolo Riddle was an eight-year-old orphan living at the London Orphanage.  He lived there since before he could remember.  He never knew his father and his mother died giving birth to him. She lived just long enough to name him: Tom, after his father and Marvolo, from his grandfather.  Tom was a _special _boy.  When he became five, he could do things that the other boys couldn't.  One time they had the yuckiest meal for dinner and when all the boys had to eat it, Tom's simply disappeared right when he touched it with his fork.  From that day on, the boys that used to be Tom's friends, turned against him.  They didn't understand what was so _special _about Tom Riddle, always getting his way.  One morning, when he went outside to play with them, they pretended like they couldn't hear him.

"Did you hear something, Patrick?" Bobby asked, crossing the monkey bars.

"Nope," Patrick answered, who was going down the slide.

Tom turned his head to Bobby. "Are you angry at me for something, Bobby?"

"Who said that?" Bobby questioned.

"I thought you were all my friends," Tom mumbled.

"Why would anyone want to be friends with you?" Bobby demanded, hanging from the bars.

Tom narrowed his eyes and as Bobby reached for the next bar it changed from a sun heated, metal bar to a snake.  Bobby screeched and fell down on his rear and looked up at the hissing snake.  

"Snake!" Bobby yelled, scrambling to his feet. "There's a snake in the playground!"

All the children ran back inside just as the snake returned as it was before—a bar.  Tom smiled and went to play on the playground, which, at the moment, had all to himself.

Though the boys all hated and envied Tom Riddle for always getting away with everything he did, some of the girls liked him for his exceptional handsome looks.  They were always swooning over his dark hair and eyes, winning smile, height, and charm.  They always giggled when he was around and nearly fought against each other for who could say, "Hello, Tom," first. But all that changed when a new girl arrived.  None of the other girls knew it at that time, but Sarah Grimes would be the one to steal Tom's heart. 

It was a cold winter Thursday in December and everyone was inside playing.  Eight-year-old Tom Riddle was sitting by the fire reading in the den when there was a knock at the door. Since he was the person closest, Tom closed his book, set it down on the ground and went to open the door.

Standing outside on the porch in the falling snow were two policemen with a girl at the age of five standing beside them. One of the policemen was holding a small yellow suitcase. The girl was only five years old, carrying a rag doll in her arms, wearing a brown coat over her black dress and a very sad, away-from-earth expression. She looked like she didn't even know who she was, where she was or why she was here.  She stared through Tom like he wasn't even there. Tom looked back at her sympathetically, concernedly, and looked up at the policemen.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Hello, is Miss Smith here?" asked the policeman carrying the girl's suitcase.

"Yes, yes she is," said Tom, stepping back to let them enter.  "I'll take you to her."

"Thank you," said the other policeman.  

Tom led the policemen and the young girl to Miss Smith's office. He gave a quick knock and paused.

"Come in," said a voice.

Tom opened the door.  "Miss Smith?  There are officers here to see you."

Miss Smith stood up from her desk.  She was a middle-aged woman who wore her blond hair ina bun.  She had brown eyes and a short and plump body. 

"Thank you, Tom," she said, walking toward the officers. "I've been expecting them.  May I speak to them in private?  I have things to discuss—nothing you'd be interested in, I'm sure!"

"Oh, of course," said Tom, nodding and closing the door behind him. But instead of returning to the fire to read, he stayed right next to the door and listened.  He could hear everything they were saying as clear as crystal, as if there weren't a door there at all and if he could squint just right, he could see right through it and see what was going on as well.

"So, this must be Sarah?" She leaned toward the young girl.  She didn't say hi or even smile.  Miss Smith straightened up and got back behind her desk.  "Please, sit."

"Sarah's mother died on Monday," said Officer Right, the one who was carrying her luggage. He set it down on the floor as the officers and girl took three seats in front of Miss Smith's desk. "Pneumonia."

"Oh, how awful."  Miss Smith frowned.  "And her father?"

"We were unable to locate him," said Officer Hardy.  "He left her and her mother when Sarah was just a baby."

Tom felt a lump in his throat, thinking of his own father.  He didn't know who he was either.  He tightened his hand in a fist and clenched his teeth.

"Any grandparents?"  Miss Smith queried.

Officer Hardy shook his head.  "If she had any living relatives, we were able to locate them as well.  The women that worked with Julia, Sarah's mother, told us that Julia never talked about her family.  They always believed she didn't have any.  Probably an only child—no brothers—no sisters."

"So, poor Sarah, is all alone?" Miss Smith asked.

"Yes.  We just came from the funeral. We saw no family there.  Just a few friends of Julia's."

Sarah looked as if she didn't realize what they were talking about.  She was staring out into space. She didn't say a word.

"Sarah doesn't speak," said Officer Right.

"Is she deaf?" Miss Smith questioned. "Does she know sign language?"

"No, she's not deaf."

"Mute then?"

Officer Hardy shook his head. "Hasn't said a word since the funeral.  Her mother's death was quite a shock."

"Poor dear," Miss Smith sympathized. "Well, we will take good care of Sarah.  Thank you, Officers, good day."

Tom hurried back to his chair and opened his book to look busy on he saw Miss Smith standing up to open the door.  He peered over his book as Miss Smith was saying goodbye to the Officers.  The front door shut and Miss Smith came back to the room. "Tom?"

"Yes, Miss Smith?" he put the book back down and stood up.

"This is Sarah Grimes," she said.  

"Hello, Sarah," Tom said pleasantly, looking right into her pale green eyes.

Sarah didn't say hi back.  Her vacant expression remained.

"Poor thing, she lost her mother a couple days ago," said Miss Smith. 

"That's terrible," Tom said, looking back at Miss Smith.  "What about her father?"

"Left her when she was just a baby."  She clicked her tongue fretfully. "What a sad world this is.  Excuse me, Tom.  I'll need to call the others."  Miss Smith left Tom alone with the new orphan as she went to ring the bells she used to call all the orphans together.

Tom looked at Sarah.  "I never knew my father either."

Sarah blinked and looked up at Tom.  Tom stepped toward her, watching her carefully and hoping that she would say something.  Then Sarah turned her eyes back to the floor, her shoulder-length strawberry blond hanging in her face.  Tom sighed and shook his head.

 "Children!" Miss Smith shouted upstairs.  "Come down here, we have a new arrival!"

Loud stomping was heard upstairs as the children hurried down to see whoever the new orphan could be.  The staff entered the room with the children.  Miss Smith smiled and placed her arms around Sarah's shoulders.  

"Another girl?" Bobby questioned incredulously.

"Quiet, Bobby!" Miss Smith scolded. She cleared her throat and her expression became soft again.  "Everyone, this is Sarah."

"Hello, Sarah," said most of the girls and a couple of the boys.  The staff greeted her with a smile and a warm hello and "Welcome to the orphanage."

"She just came from her mother's funeral today and I want you all to treat her with respect."

"Yes, Miss Smith," they said in unison.

"Camille," the cook, a woman plumper than Miss Smith said, "shall we have dinner early to celebrate Sarah's welcome?"

"Yeah, yeah!" said some of the boys.  They loved the cook's food, except for the time she cooked liver and the only boy who didn't have to eat it, was Tom.  The cook--Mrs. Crabtree--loved to cook just as much as the boys loved to eat.

"Thank you, Mrs. Crabtree," said Miss Smith.  "That would be lovely."

Mrs. Crabtree smiled and looked at Sarah.  "What is your favorite meal, dear?  I will make it for you."

Still, Sarah did not reply.  Mrs. Crabtree laughed.  "Ah, we've got a shy one, eh?  Well, I guess dinner will have to be a surprise."

"I don't like it when she says that," Ned muttered to Patrick.  

"I just hope it's not liver again," Patrick gagged.

"Catherine, could you and the girls bring Sarah to the girl's quarters?" Miss Smith asked.

"Sure, Miss Smith."  Catherine said, coming to Sarah.  "You want me to carry your suitcase for you, Sarah?"

Sarah kept her hand tight around her suitcase.  Catherine looked confused for a second. 

"Well, we'll show you to the girl's room—no boys aloud!" said Beth, sticking her tongue at the boys.  "Mmmmnnnnllllleeee!"

Some of the boys stuck their tongues right back.

"Beth!" Miss Smith shouted.

Beth giggled and took Sarah by the hand.  The crowd of girls started talking rapidly.  

"Sarah, what's your dolly's name?"

"My name's Serena, by the way."

"Where are you from?"

"I'm sorry about your mom—I remembered when mine died."

"You want to play with us after supper?"

"What a pretty dress, Sarah!"

But Sarah did not say a word. The girls decided she was too shy and too sad to be talking right away, so they just showed her to the large room where all the girls slept.  The boys all slept in the floor above them.  After washing up, the girls came down with Sarah.  

The cook made a scrumptious dinner that the children just devoured but Sarah looked upon her plate with no appetite.

"Not hungry, dear?" Mrs. Crabtree questioned. "Nothing wrong with the food, is there?"

"No, it's wonderful, Mrs. Crabtree," Bobby said through a mouthful of fried chicken.  "I guess she's just not hungry."

"Well, can I have your food then?" asked Ned from across the table.

"Ned!" scolded Miss Smith.

Tom didn't blame her for not talking or eating.  He barely ate anything himself.  That night while the girls were sleeping, they heard quiet sobbing from Sarah's bed.  

Beth got up and walked to Sarah.  She was lying in a fetal position in her bed, clutching her doll, tears streaking her face.

"Sarah, what's wrong?" Beth asked. "You still miss your mommy?"

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, more tears squeaked out and she didn't reply.

"I never knew my mommy," said Beth.

Sarah swallowed and turned on her side.  Beth side and went back to her bed.  The next day, Sarah still didn't speak or eat.  Miss Smith feared she would starve herself to death if she didn't eat soon.  At supper the next day, Sarah did not come down.

"She's upstairs, crying," Beth explained.  "She won't come down."

Tom looked at his plate.  Hearing about Sarah's condition made him not want to eat either.  Then he got an idea.  Maybe he could help her eat.  He reached forward, grabbed an apple and ran up stairs.

"He took the apple I wanted!" Bobby muttered.

Tom never went to the girl's dormitory, not that the boys weren't exactly not aloud to go in, he just didn't want to be in a room of girls talking about their dolls and how 'cute' he looked.  He got tired of girls asking him, "Tom, do you think I'm pretty?"

Tom knocked on the door and peeked in.  "Sarah, why weren't you at dinner today?"

Sarah was sitting on her bed looking out the window, her back toward him.  She was sobbing hard, because she thought she was alone.  When she heard Tom speak, she gasped, turned her head, and looked back down, wiping her tears away.  Tom walked in and sat next to her.

"You know, you'll never get adopted if you starve yourself to death," said Tom.

Sarah sniffed and wipe d her nose with the bridge of her hand.

"You're lucky you knew your mother," Tom said quietly.  "Mine died while giving birth to me."

Sarah brought her tear-filled eyes up at Tom and looked concerned.

"I don't blame you for not wanting to eat with the others," Tom began.  "I don't like eating with them very much but I know I have to eat if I want to live long enough to be adopted."  He held out a red and shiny apple.  "You don't know it, but you're probably starving.  I don't think you ate since your mother died, did you?"

She shook her head and he placed in her hand. 

"We don't get apples very much," he explained.  "It's a rare treat.  There are a lot of orphans here.  I'll let you have mine."

Sarah looked down at the apple and at him.  Her frowned turned into a smile but she still iddn't say anything.

"Hey, you've got a pretty smile," Tom said, standing up.  "You should use it more often."  As he walked away, Sarah bit into the apple.

--

Sarah still didn't speak to anyone, even at Christmas.  The orphans and staff thought for sure she'd be speaking by then.  The girls nearly gave up trying to befriend her. How could they play with someone who never talked?  She hardly ever smiled.  Sarah didn't speak for three whole years until one nice summer day; a farmer came to bring apples for the orphans.  Because apples were such a rare treat, all the orphans hurried to get one.  Most unfortunate, he had one less for everyone and Tom Riddle was the poor sap that didn't receive one.

"I'm sorry, Tom," Miss Smith said.  "I just gave the last apple to Bobby."

Tom looked at Bobby, who with a mischievous grin, bit into his red, shiny apple. Tom clenched his fist.

"It's all right," said Tom, trying to keep from strangling Bobby.  Bobby was one of the worst kids.  He teased Tom all the time because Tom was _special._  As Tom turned around to go up the stairs, he felt someone tug on his shirt.

"Tom?" said a very sweet voice of a girl. Everyone gasped.

"Yes?" Tom.  He turned to see seven-year-old Sarah, the girl who never talked, wearing a soft expression on her pretty freckled face.  Everyone stared at Sarah and whispered around.

"Did you see that? Sarah finally talked!"

 "You can have my apple, Tom." She said, holding out her apple with a small, shaking hand.  

"Why, that is very nice of you, Sarah," Miss Smith said, surprised that Sarah finally talked since she arrived to the orphanage three years ago.  "Tom" was the first word she said.  "Tom?  You can have my apple, Tom."

It was something Tom Riddle would never forget. Tom stood there for a while, impressed and surprised.  A smile slowly crept upon his handsome face and he reached out to take the apple.

"Thank you, Sarah," he said.  

"You're welcome, Tom," she replied, smiling faintly and she walked past him up to the girl's quarters.  Tom watched Sarah turn up the stairs.  He remembered when he gave her an apple the night after she came to the orphanage and wouldn't eat.  Tom Riddle was the first person she saw when she arrived to the orphanage.  He was the first person to say hello to her, the person who got her to eat and the first, perhaps only person to see her smile.  And now, he was the first person she ever spoke to. Smiling, Miss Smith stepped to Tom.

"Tom, do you realize, that you're the first person Sarah has spoken to since she arrived here?" she asked eagerly.

Tom smiled and looked at the apple he just gave her.  "Yes, I—I suppose I am."

"There must be something about you, Tom," said Miss Smith. "Something special."

Bobby groaned and imitated what Miss Smith just said in an irritated tone. Some of the girls who hadn't eaten their apples yet, glanced at theirs and then to Tom.  They hurried to Tom with their apples, taking Sarah's example.

"Here Tom," said Beth, "you can have my apple too!"

"Red delicious isn't my favorite variety anyway," insisted Kelly and the girls hurried up the stairs, leaving Tom with too many apples for him to carry, let alone eat.  He couldn't keep himself from grinning.

"Boy—oh—boy—do I have a lot of apples!" he said excitedly, making the other boys scowl in jealousy.  "I think I'll eat them outside!"

As Sarah got down to speak to her doll, the only thing she ever talked to when people weren't alone, the door threw open and the girls hurried in.

"Sarah, that was so nice of you to give your apple to Tom!" Beth grinned.

"I wish I hadn't eaten mine already," Sharon sighed.  "I would've given him mine too."

"Why did you give him your apple?" Catherine questioned. "We don't get apples very much here at the orphanage."

Sarah opened her mouth, paused and decided that her three years of silence was long enough.  "Because—Tom gave me an apple—the night after I came here." She said quietly. "I like Tom."

"We all like Tom," said Sharon, shrugging and rolling her eyes. "He's the best looking boy in the orphanage!"

"I kind of hope he never gets adopted," Kelly said.  "I'll be so sad if he leaves the orphanage."

"Where is Tom now?" Sara asked.

"I don't know," said Jenny, "but it's a nice day. You want to play with us, Sarah?"  
Sarah smiled, "okay."

"Come on," Kelly urged, grabbing her arm and leading her down the stairs and outside with the group of laughing girls.  Sitting on the porch, his lap full with up to five apples, Tom Riddle munched on his second apple and waved at the girls, thanking them for the bunch of delicious apples they gave him, while the rest of the boys looked on in envy.

"Look at him," Bobby muttered, "he thinks he's _so _great."

Tom became full by the time he got to his last apple.  He stood up and walked to Sarah, who was playing a clapping game with Jenny.

"Sarah," he began.  "Thanks for the apple.  I ate yours first."

"You're welcome, Tom," she said.

"Thanks girls, but, all those apples were too much for me to eat," he replied.  "You want my last one, Sarah?"

Sarah paused and reached for the apple, her pale green eyes locked on Tom's black ones.  Her fingertips touched Tom's knuckles softly.  He smiled as she pulled the apple back to her.

"You sure?" she asked.

Tom nodded.

Smiling, Sarah bit into the shiny red apple.  When she finished, she asked Tom to swing the merry-go-round while the girls sat on it, which he did.  

"You might want to hold on tight," he warned them.  "You don't want to be flying off to the moon."

The girls laughed and Tom began running, his hands clenched tight around the bars.  They were soon spinning around and their hair was flying in the air.  Tom pulled himself up on the spinning merry-go-round and put his arms around Sarah, who looked like she was about ot be spinning off into the ground.  When the ride started slowing down, Sarah looked up at Tom and smiled.

"Thank you, Tom," she said, "you are a very nice boy." 

"You're welcome."

Tom got off the merry go round and stopped it for the girls to get off.  Sarah stood and started to walk off but she got dizzy from the spinning ride.  Fortunately, Tom caught her before she ended up with a mouthful of grass.  He fell flat on his back; his arms around the young girl and found himself staring into her eyes.  Sarah didn't speak.  She didn't blink.  They were both lost in each other's eyes for that small moment in time, and Sarah knew, right then and there, that Tom Riddle was the best thing that happened to her since she came to the orphanage and just like the other girls, she wished he was never adopted, or Sarah might go another three years without speaking.

Finally, Sarah broke the silence.  "Thanks for catching me, Tom."

"You're welcome," he breathed.

Sarah cleared her throat and pushed herself up, giving Tom a hand.  She went to the swings and sat in one of them.  Tom got behind her and began to push her.  Tom never pushed any of the other girls in the swings before.  They never thought to ask.  Sarah didn't have to.  Tom suddenly just wanted to.

The more Sarah laughed, the harder Tom pushed and higher she went.  The other girls stood puzzled and wondered when they were going to get their turn.  They might as well go back inside now, because they were never going to get their turn with Tom Riddle.

**To Be Continued**


	2. Magical Christmas

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 

**Chapter 2**

**Magical Christmas**

Note: No one really knows why Tom became Lord Voldemort, but I believe he wasn't always evil, something happened to him to become that way.  You know how in book 2 when Riddle's talking to Harry about similarities?  Maybe they really are alike in some ways; they were bullied in their youth.  Just like the way Dudley and his cronies picked on Harry, Tom had some bullies to worry about.  Also, I figured out Tom's birthday, that is, if I'm right, Tom was born in 1926—so he's pretty dang old!  I don't know if JKR writes it in a whole AU, or the timeline is real, like wars and stuff, but I'm putting WW2 (in later chapters during Tom's third year) just like it's real and I bet WW2 would play a big part of Tom hating muggles and it gives him: "If muggles can't get live in the same world together, then how are muggles and wizards supposed to?"  But of course, I'll have to do a lot of research on WW2 but it might answer the question to: "Why did Tom become Lord Voldemort?"

By Christmas time that year, Sarah was more talkative, not only that, but she warmed enough of to sing. Tom heard her singing "Winter Wonderland" outside.  His heart gave a sudden leap when he heard her sweet voice and he jumped from his bed and pushed up the window to see her walking around.

Tom smiled, leaned against he window and cupped his chin, watching a singing and dancing Sarah Grimes in the falling snow.  It was strange, exactly three years ago, this day, Sarah came to the Orphanage a sad and closed up little girl.  Now, thanks to Tom Riddle's charm and thoughtfulness, Sarah talked, smiled and people saw that sweet girl that was hidden beneath the sad one for three years. Why did it take so long for this sweet her Sarah to come out?  Did she miss her mother that much? And what is it about Tom Riddle that changed her?  As Tom Riddle got lost watching Sarah dance and sing in the snow, this pretty picture was ruined when a snowball smashed into Sarah's head, making her lose her balance and fall down.  

Sarah let out a yelp and began to cry.  Tom blinked, and looked at the source of the laughing boys.  Of course, Bobby and his little gang.  Tom used to be friends with them until strange unusual happened every time Tom got angry or scared when the other boys were around.  Tom never could explain it.  Tom was just special.  He had some kind of gift that set him apart from the other boys.  Seeing Sarah cry made something inside Tom snap.  He jumped out of the open window and landed on his feet like a cat.  He had jumped from the third floor and it could've broken all the bones in his legs, but he felt no pain. No other boy could do it.  

Patrick gasped. "Hey, how did you do that?" 

"Shut up," Tom snapped, bending to the ground and making a snowball. "How would you like it if I hit you with a snowball?" He chucked the snowball in Patrick's face so hard that it knocked him down.  

"Go away, Tom!" Bobby snapped.  "We were just having fun!"

"I don't see Sarah laughing!" Tom snarled, tackling him to the ground and pummeling his fist into Bobby's face.  Bobby's nose broke and he started to call at Ned and Patrick to help him out.

"Get him off me!" Bobby shouted.

After helping Patrick to his feet, who had a black eye, Ned and Patrick grabbed Tom by the arms and pulled him off of Bobby.  They were four years older than Tom and stronger too.  As Tom tried to get free, Bobby got up, wiping the blood off his lip.

"So that's the way you want it, Riddle?" Bobby sneered, popping his knuckles.

"Leave him alone, Bobby!" Sarah yelled.

Bobby began to punch Tom in the stomach.  Tom grunted in pain and dared not to look at Sarah so he couldn't see her cry.  Sarah covered her eyes with her hands and began to mumble, "this is my fault…this is my fault!"

Bobby gave Tom a hard punch to the jaw and Tom tasted blood in his mouth.  Ned and Patrick were laughing as Tom continued to try to wriggle out.  Tom was a tall kid but he wasn't as tough as the others.  

"Stop it!" Sarah shouted.  "Tom! Tom! Somebody help!  Help!"

Everyone inside heard Sarah's screaming and rushed out to find Bobby and his cronies beating Tom. "Bobby!" Miss Smith yelled.  "Leave Tom alone! That's enough!"

"Not again," said Josh, a burly boy about thirteen.  

 The janitor, Mr. Paten got between Tom and Bobby, pushing Bobby away from Tom. "All right, break it up, lads…break it up."

"I'm not done with him yet!" Bobby cried, trying to get free.

"Unhand him," Miss Smith said sternly to Patrick and Ned.  "Right now."

They roughly threw Tom to the ground as if Tom had been on fire.  Sarah sobbed any harder.  

"Now what is the meaning of this?" Miss Smith demanded.  "Why were you three fighting with Tom?"

"Tom started it!" Bobby yelled.  "He jumped from the window and…and hit Patrick with a snowball!"

"Wow," Catherine mumbled, "he jumped from why up there?" she looked at he window.  

"Is that true, Tom?" Miss Smith asked.

"They hit Sarah first," Tom said, spitting blood onto the white snow as he pushed himself up.  "And I…was only…helping her."  He winced as Josh took Tom's arm and helped him his to his feet.

"You going to be all right?" Josh asked in concern.  "Wow, what an eye."

"I'll live," Tom muttered.  
"We were just having a little fun," Ned mumbled.  "Just playing, and Tom attacked Bobby."

"Bobby, you're such a jerk!" Beth snapped.

"This is all my fault!" Sarah sobbed, getting to her feet.  "If I hadn't been singing then none of this would've happened!"

"Singing?" Miss Smith said.

"Sarah was singing and they thought it would be funny to hit her in the head with a snowball," said Tom.  "But I don't see her laughing."

"You uncultured swine!" Catherine yelled at the bullies as Sarah ran crying back into the orphanage.

"All right, you all know that fighting is not aloud here," Miss Smith began.  "Tom…"

"I was defending Sarah," Tom insisted.

"I know, but you should have come to me first," she said, "if this happens again, I'll have to move you all into different orphanages."

"Why don't you just move Bobby?" Catherine asked.  "He's been pestering Tom ever since…well…years!"

"Perhaps I should," she said, "but it's nearly Christmas.  I hope you will remember what it stands for.  Inside."

Tom pulled himself wearily to his feet and walked inside.  He hated Bobby and the others with a passion.  He hated _all _bullies. Tom thought it was inane how bullies took pleasure in the pain of others.  'Someday,' he thought with relish, 'I'll get them back.  I will make them pay. I'll torture them the way they have tortured me.  I swear it.'

It was going to be difficult staying in the same place as Bobby and the others, sleeping in that same big room with a bunch of boys who loathed him. He hoped that soon, he'd be adopted and he wouldn't have to worry about them anymore.  Or at least someone would be stupid or desperate enough to have a child that they'd pick one like Bobby.  Patrick and Ned were all right, most of the time anyway.  They just did whatever Bobby told them.  He could handle them, but Bobby was like a disease.  Josh didn't pick on him but he wasn't always nice to him either, until that moment he helped him to his feet.  The younger boys acted as if they were afraid of him, just because Tom was _different. _

He found Sarah by the fireplace, her face buried into her knees and her arms wrapped around them, surrounded by the other girls trying to placate her.  

"It's all right, Sarah," Beth said.  "Your bruise isn't that bad."

"Maybe we should get the nurse to look at," Catherine suggested.

"No, that's not it," Sarah sniffed, "that's not…why I'm crying!  I'm crying because Tom got hurt!  Tom got hurt because he saw Bobby hit me with a snowball and it made him mad!  I nearly got Tom in trouble for it and he'll have to leave the orphanage!  This is my fault!  If I hadn't been singing, Bobby wouldn't' have hit me and Tom wouldn't have gotten hurt!  Tom was only trying to protect me!  Like—like a big brother!"

Taken aback, Tom flinched and looked at Sarah in a whole new light and pondered what she had just said.  _Big brother.  _That's exactly how he had been acting toward her since she got here.  He was patient when she wasn't speaking.  He got her to eat.  He ended up being the first person she talked to.  When the bullies were being cruel to her her, he got protective.  

"Tom won't have to go," said Jenny.

"This is all my fault!  I never should have come here!"

Tom walked over to the girls. "Can I talk to Sarah alone, please?"

"Shouldn't you have your eye looked at?" Jenny questioned.  

"I'm fine," Tom said.  "I'll put a steak or something on it later.  I'd like to talk to Sarah."

"Okay," said Jenny.

The girls shrugged, left the room and trekked up the stairs and waited by the railing to listen in. Tom sat down next to Sarah.

"You okay, Sarah?" he asked.

Sarah shook her head.

"Listen, don't worry about me," he said, "I'll be okay."

"You could've gotten thrown out because of me," she whispered into her knees.  

"It wasn't your fault.  Bobby's been bullying me for years. He's been a bully to everybody except to Patrick and Ned."

"I shouldn't have been singing," she sniveled, "it's my fault you got hurt, Tom."

"Sarah, you were only singing.  Bobby is a bully.  It's not your fault I got hurt and I won't be kicked out of the orphanage as long as Bobby the Bully behaves himself."  Tom insisted.  "He doesn't understand good music when he hears it. I thought you were beautiful."

"Really?" she asked, pulling hear tear-stained face up from her knees.  "You liked hearing me sing?"

"You were great," he said, wiping a tear away.  "You should sing at Christmas.  Miss Smith knows the piano—you can sing along when she plays the Christmas carols."

Sarah smiled and rubbed her eyes.  "I probably will.  I love to sing."  
"Miss Smith will take us skating tomorrow," he said. "We don't go every year.  I think this will be the first time we'll go staking since you've been here.  Do you know how to skate?"

She shook her head.

"Well, it's been a while for me," Tom admitted.  "But it's really fun…once you stop falling down that is."  

She laughed and then her face wrinkled in surprise. "Tom…"

"What?"  He asked. "What's the matter?"

"Your…face…it's all…"

Tom reached his fingers to his face, got up and looked into the mirror beside the fireplace.  "I don't believe it.  How?"

Tom's face, which what used to have a black eye and a cut lip, was now starting to heal itself. When did that happen?

"Amazing," he said.  

"Bobby really gave you a beating…how could you heal so fast?"

Tom shrugged, turned and grinned.  "Magic, I guess."

"Yeah, magic," she said.  "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sarah."

The girls took this as their cue to hurry up to their room to get ready for bed.  When Sarah joined them in the girl's wing, they pretended to be fast asleep.

Tom waited downstairs for a while, dreading have to go back upstairs to sleep in the same room with a bunch of boys who hated his guts.  Finally, he went upstairs to go to bed.  Patrick, Bobby and Ned were already there sitting on their beds.

"Ah, there you are," said Bobby.

"Shut up," Tom muttered.

"You ought to be careful what you say, Tom," Bobby said, "If you want to wake up in the morning."

Tom clenched and unclenched his hands.  

"Go on, Tom…you want to hit me?  Then you can get out of here."

"I can stay awake longer than you," Tom muttered.

"Oh, you're afraid of something happening in the middle of the night?" Bobby asked, grabbing his pillow.  "Me accidentally…smothering this over your ugly face?"

Tom laughed. "If I'm ugly, then you're hideous."

"What was that?" Bobby demanded.

"I think you heard me," Tom sneered.

Bobby stepped toward him just as Josh returned from brushing his teeth.  "Do you guys ever quit? Knock it off!" He got between them.  "If you guys get in trouble for fighting again, Miss Smith will chuck you guys out."

"Yeah," Patrick said, "he does got a point. I mean…if you make Tom angry, weird stuff happens."

"Why don't you listen to him, Bobby?" Tom asked with a grin.  "Strange things happen when I get angry…things I can't control…things I can't explain."

"That's because you're a freak," Bobby spat.

"Maybe…but it's better than being a dog-faced bully like you!" 

"Hey!" 

"You guys!" Josh shouted.  
Bobby lunged at Tom and he hit his head on something, only there was nothing there.  It was as if an invisible shield was around Tom and Bobby couldn't get through. Bobby tried again and he still couldn't get to Tom.

"Why you…freak!"

Tom grinned and sat lotus style on his bed. "I dare you to stay up all night, Bobby."

"All right, I will," Bobby muttered angrily. "We'll see who wakes up refreshed and who is dead."

"Oh please," Josh groaned. "Give it a rest."

"No…no, Tom thinks he's better than me."  Bobby said.  "Well, we'll prove that, won't we?"

Patrick, Josh and Ned retired to bed, whereas Bobby and Tom stayed up, staring at each other with their chins in their hands.  About midnight, Bobby yawned.  Tom grinned.

"Getting, tired, Bobby?"

"Far from it," he mumbled.  

Tom wasn't sure why, but he felt refreshed and wide-awake. Bobby's head bobbed and he fought the urge to fall asleep.  He blinked several times.  

"You are getting sleepy—very sleepy," Tom said, speaking like a hypnotist.

"Shut up," Bobby muttered.  He yawned again and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.  Within five minutes, he lost the war, fell onto his back and drifted into a deep slumber.

"Sleep tight, jerk," Tom smirked before lying down.

--

The next day, Miss Smith took the orphans to the frozen pond to skate.  Sarah was having trouble staying on her feet.

"It's all right, Sarah," Catherine coaxed.  "Just…whoa!" she lost her balance and fell.  Bobby laughed and pointed at her from the side of the lake.

"Oh, I'd like to see you try, Bobby!" Catherine snapped, getting back to her feet.

"It's not as easy as it looks, you know," said Beth, moving in baby steps.  

Sarah fell down for the seventh time in a row.  "I don't see how this is fun," she mumbled.

"Oh, is Sarah going to cry?" Bobby asked.

"You should've slept in, Bobby," Tom sneered at him. "You could use your beauty sleep."

"You…" Bobby began but Tom skated away to Sarah who was still trying to get up.

"Sarah, are you all right?" he asked.

"I can't stay on my feet," she whispered.

Tom bent down and tried to help her up without falling down himself.  The last time he went skating with the orphanage was when he was six.  "Just hold onto my hand. That's it…"

They skated for a while, both a little jelly legged and Sarah fell again, bringing Tom down with her. 

"Whoops," Tom mumbled.

"I'm not very good, am I?" she asked.

"We just need to practice more," Tom insisted.  "Up again…"  
They fell a few more times but it made them laugh until they got really good to the point Tom could skate with her on his shoulder like a pair of figure skaters. The girls oohed and awed over this, clapping and wishing they'd skate with Tom next, but they never did.

--

On Christmas morning, the children were happy with donated gifts and candy canes.  Miss Smith played on the piano and Sarah sang along.  Tom wasn't sure why, but he loved how she sang.  Sarah had the most beautiful voice he ever heard in his entire life. Sarah had the voice of an angel. For a seven-year-old girl, Sarah sang with a pretty strong voice.  She could sing any Christmas Carol, from fun and upbeat ones like "Jingle Bells" that the children all sang together, to melodic, spiritual ones like "Oh Holy Night."  If Sarah kept practicing, she could be a real singer someday.  Her sweet angelic voice made everyone in the room quiet and Mrs. Crabtree kept dabbing her eyes.  Tom felt as if his body was burning with spiritual fire.  He wasn't sure when he felt quite this before.  

In the climax of the song, the phrase, "fall on your knees," Sarah got so into the song that she actually came to her knees.  Even Bobby was being quiet during the song and didn't dare say a joke or he wouldn't get any Christmas supper for it.  After her beautiful singing, everyone applauded her.

"Splendid," said Miss Smith.  "Sarah, you are a beautiful singer!"

Tom gave Sarah a great big hug and the phone rang.  

"Oh, I will get that."  Miss Smith left the den and went to her office to answer the phone. There was quite some time until she came out and the children were talking about how good Sarah was and they all broke out singing "O Christmas Tree."   While singing, Miss Smith came back out.

"Children, I have some good news," she said smiling.  

After the hubbub had subsided, they waited for her to speak again.

"I just got off the phone with a Mr. and Mrs. Shire and they will be coming here shortly to adopt one of you as a Christmas present.  I suggest you be off and make yourself presentable!"

"R-really?" Jenny gasped.  

"Yes, really.  Hurry now!"

Everybody rushed up to their quarters to put on their best clothes, fix their hair and brush their teeth about ten times.  The boys nearly got in a fight that could shower first and they didn't come down until the couple came to see the kids.  

"They're here!" shouted Adam, an eight year old, pointing out the window.  

Miss Smith welcomed the couple in and the boys and girls aspiring to have parents, stared down the stairs.  Miss Smith asked them what they wanted, a boy, a girl and what age.

"A boy," said Mr. Shire.  

All the girls frowned and the boys bustled down the stairs.  Mr. Shire smiled and turned.

"Hello," he said, "I'm Mr. Edward Shire."

The boys nodded in greeting.  Tom suddenly felt nervous.  What if he wasn't what they were looking for? 'Don't get nervous, Tom,' he told himself.  'Don't get scared. You know what happens when you get scared.'

"I combed my hair for nothing," Jenny muttered.

"I'm coming down anyway," said Sarah and peered around the corner.  Mrs. Shire smiled at her as the other girls came down around her.

"Honey," Mrs. Shire said, "can't we get a girl too?"

Mr. Shire shrugged, "Now, sweetheart, we need a boy to do work on the farm…"

"But--,"

Miss Smith cleared her throat and went to the line of boys to introduce them.  Tom was at the end of the line.  'Why do I always have to be last?' he thought.

Mr. Shire looked more interested in the stronger looking boys.  Bobby still had a bruised face from the fight and he walked right past him and stopped at Tom.

"What's your name, son?" he asked.

"Tom," he answered quietly.  

Just then, Tom accidentally made the fire go out from his fear.  Everyone looked at it and Bobby sneered at Tom.  

"Ah," Miss Smith said, going to the fireplace, "looks like snow has fallen into the chimney again."

Tom breathed a sigh of relief but Mr. Shire shrugged, looking him over.

'He probably thinks I'm not strong enough,' Tom thought, 'but a farm isn't my lifestyle anyway.'

Mr. Shire stopped at Josh and smiled.  "Why, you look like a strong boy.  What's your name?"

"Josh," he replied.

Mr. Shire held out his hand for him to shake.  Josh looked kind of confused for a while then shook it.  "Miss Smith, may we bring Josh into your office to speak privately?"

Josh's mouth fell open and some of the boys looked at him in jealousy.

"Certainly," said Miss Smith. "Everyone, back to your quarters."

The children went back upstairs and some of the girls were crying, "I'll never be adopted!"

She led them, Josh looking incredibly nervous and they asked him questions about how long he's been at the orphanage and how strong he was, but Josh was also a smart boy.  All the boys waited silently in the room for an hour until Josh finally came up.  

"Well?" Tom said, standing up.

Josh smiled and looked up.  "They're signing the papers.  They want to adopt me.  I'll go tomorrow!"

Tom smiled back and shook his hand.  "Congratulations, Josh."  

"Thanks. Thank you, Tom."

"Well, they're only adopting you because they need a worker," Bobby muttered.

"Oh, shut up!" Tom shouted.  "At least he'll be getting a real home!"

"Mr. and Mrs. Shire are real nice people," said Josh.  "I can tell already."

"Well, I'm happy for you, Josh," Tom said.

"Thanks."

The rest of the day, Tom tried to feel happy for Josh but inside, he felt incredibly empty.  He wasn't in the mood to eat and by night, he laid inside clutching his pillow and feeling sorry for him.  Tom knew the reason why the couple didn't want him; it wasn't just because Tom was a tall and lanky boy, but because he was strange.  He saw the way Mr. Shire looked at Tom when the fire suddenly went out.  Maybe the fire wasn't as strange as other things he made happen, but it didn't help him down there when he was trying to look his best.  Of course, if Tom was scared enough, he could've made the lights accidentally go out too, or a mirror fall down.  

Tom twisted, tossed and turned in his bed, trying to fall asleep.  'No one will want me—I'm strange.  No one wants me for a son…'

--

After Josh left, Tom felt even worse. Josh was now living with his new parents and working around a farm and though it didn't sound like a fun life that was the kind of scene Josh was looking for.  He loved the country air.  

Sarah felt that something was bothering Tom so she sought him out and found him standing outside.  "You'll freeze, Tom," she said.

Tom shivered and said nothing.

"Tom, what's the matter?  Are you upset because that Josh was adopted?"

He shrugged, "no, not really—I mean, I'm happy for Josh. I just wish, I had made a better impression."

"Come inside," she said, tugging on his arm and bringing him inside. "It's cold." She sat him down on the sofa in the den.  "Listen, I'm kind of glad they didn't pick you."

"What?" he asked.

"Everyone here wants to be adopted," she insisted, "but you don't want to spend the rest of your life on a farm, do you?"

"Better than this place," he muttered.

"You don't like farms, Tom.  You told me so."

"Yeah," he said, "I guess I have some right to the home I want to spend the rest of my life in."

"Where?"

"A castle maybe."

"A castle?" she asked.  "Well, you might be lucky.  A king and queen will decide to adopt you."

He smiled at her being so optimistic.

"You know, Tom," she said, "if you were adopted, I'd be sad.  I wouldn't want them to take you away."

"How come?"

"Because I like you, Tom," she answered.  "I'm glad you stayed so I'd have someone to protect me."  She sighed.  "Maybe the next lady and man who come to the orphanage will adopt the both of us.  You already are like a big brother to me."

"Maybe," he said, nodding.  "Something to hope for." He got up and started to walk away.  "Thanks."

Sarah looked up and noticed that something green and red was hanging just over his head, the mistletoe.

"Tom, wait!" she cried, jumping up.

"What is it?"

She pulled on his hand, making him bend down and kissed his cheek.  "You were standing under the mistletoe.  I'm supposed to kiss you."

Tom smiled.  "Why thank you, Sarah.  I feel much better now."

Sarah beamed up at him like she would kiss him again.  She took in a deep breath.  

"Smells like dinner is ready!" she said happily and led him to the dining room.

Tom had felt much better now, but what he did not know, this may be the last time he spent Christmas in the orphanage.  Soon, he would understand why he was so special and different from the other boys.  Tom was different, because he was a wizard and next summer, he'll get the biggest surprise of his life.

To Be Continued 


	3. Happy Birthday, Tom

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle

**Chapter 3**

**Happy Birthday, Tom**

Note: We don't know when Tom's birthday is, but I have a feeling it's in January.  I bet he's a Capricorn because I've looked up what Capricorns are and they're patient, wise and compassionate.  Well, Voldemort doesn't show much compassion, but I bet Tom did when he was younger and he does show patience in the second book when writing to Ginny and he was patient on waiting for the Triwizard Tournament thingy. Capricorns want only the best in anything and that does sound like Tom, hell, a typical Slytherin to me!  I bet Salazar Slytherin was a Capricorn and all the Slytherins were born in winter months.  In book 4, Trelawny thinks Harry was born under the planet Saturn and that's what Capricorns are.  So she probably wasn't reading Harry's fortune all the time, but Voldemort's.  I bet his death she's talking about is Voldemort's!  It's just a hunch, but I think I'm right about Tom being a Capricorn.  I bet Godric Gryffindor was a Leo, Helga Hufflepuff was a Scorpio (that's what I am and they're really loyal and stuff!) another sign in fall and Rowena Ravenclaw had a spring birthday, maybe she was a Pisces because they symbolize wisdom.

On January 13, 1938, Tom Marvolo Riddle turned eleven.  This was going to be a very special year for Tom because he would be going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When Sarah learned it was his birthday, she went to the kitchen and asked Mrs. Crabtree if she could help make him a birthday cake to surprise him.  Not only that, but they made his favorite dinner for a birthday party.  When everything was done, she crept up to the boy's dormitory and knocked on the door, opening it slightly to find Tom reading, and his back toward her.

Sarah crept up, put her hands on his eyes and yelled, "guess who!"

"Hmm," said Tom, playing along, "is it Jenny?"

"Nope!"

"Catherine?"

"Nope!"

"Let's see," Tom continued, "Sarah?"

"Yup!" she took her hands off his eyes and embraced him.  "Happy birthday, Tom!"

"Today's my birthday?" he asked, surprised.  "Really?"

"Yes, silly," she mumbled, coming down and grabbing his hand.  "Come down, Tom. Something I want to show you. Close your eyes."

"But how am I supposed to know where I'm going?" Tom questioned playfully.

"I'll lead you," Sarah giggled, tugging on the tall boy's hand. "Come on, Tom!"

"Oh, all right," Tom sighed, closing his eyes and he let the girl he thought of as his younger sister down the stars.  "Don't let me trip."

"I won't, silly," she insisted.  "Are they closed?  Don't peak! It's a surprise!"

"I'm not peaking," said Tom.

She stopped at the table, let go of his hand and said, "Okay, open!"

Tom opened his eyes to see his favorite food on the table, garnished with a green tablecloth, a birthday cake that said, "Happy Birthday, Tom!" and presents.

"Wow!" Tom shouted.

"You like it, Tom?" Sarah asked.

"Like it?" Tom questioned.  "I love it!  You did all this for me?"  
"Yes, Tom," Sarah replied. 

"Oh, Sarah, thank you."  He grabbed her and picked her up, holding her on his hip and she put her arms around his neck, just like any big brother might carry his sister around.  Tom gave Sarah a kiss on the cheek, which she returned the same way.  "The best birthday ever."

The dinner was delicious, the cake was even better and he loved the presents but what he loved the most of the whole birthday party was that Sarah took the time to do it for him.  In the eleven years he had been in the orphanage, no one put in an effort to make any of his birthdays one to remember.

--

After Tom's birthday, two more girls were adopted, Beth and Catherine.  Usually a girl would feel jealous, angry or sad that someone else left the orphanage to go to a new home, but Sarah was thrilled.  Sarah was not just happy for the other girls, but happy for herself that she didn't have to leave the orphanage, or Tom.  She knew the other boys didn't like Tom and if she were to leave without him, Tom wouldn't have a friend.  Tom and Sarah spent a lot of time together.  He read stories to her while holding her in his lap, talked to her when she had bad dreams and did everything a big brother and a little sister would do for each other.

One spring day, Tom took little Sarah out for a piggyback ride through the park.  Sarah laughed, trying to catch falling tree blossoms while Tom carried her through on his back.  

"Am I getting too heavy?" she inquired.

"No," he replied.

He walked on some more until she saw some geese in the park.  She asked him to set her down so she could chase the geese and throw bread to them.  Tom swung her around in the green grass until they both got dizzy and fell down laughing.  They would point at the sky and pick out cloud formations for hours. Then they went window-shopping, hand in hand.  When they came to a pet shop, Sarah asked if they could go in.  The cats in the window—what used to be sleeping—awoke just as Tom and Sarah came by.

"Miss Smith will be wondering where we are," said Tom.

"Just for a while, please?" Sarah asked, her eyes getting big.

He sighed. "Oh, all right."

They walked inside to look at the cute little animals and Sarah went straight for the kittens.  They mewed at her, licked her face as she petted them.  The cats were drawn to Sarah, all wanting to have some of the little girl's loving.

Tom chuckled while holding a little kitten that playfully pawed his chin then sat it down.  He heard someone talking to him, but the only ones in the store at the time were Sarah and he.  The owner of the store had to be back in the office.  Tom turned a snake tank. A garter snake was looking straight at him, hissing but Tom could've sworn he heard a voice coming from its tongue.

"Take me home," it said imploringly.

"You talking to me?" Tom asked.

It nodded.  Tom was taken back and walked closer to the tank.  

"You can hear me?"

It nodded again.  "Yessss.  Take me home with you, _pleaasseee_."

"I would," said Tom, "but I have no money and we don't allow pets in the orphanage.  You've been there for a long time, haven't you?"

"Yessss. I have."

"Sorry."

The owner of the pet store came out from the back and the bell jingled as more customers came in.  They looked at Tom as if he were having a fit and walked passed him. Sarah was still playing with the kittens and hadn't noticed that Tom was speaking in Parseltongue.  The boy that came in with the new customers pointed at Tom.

"Mommy, he talks funny," he said.

"Honey, don't point." She said.

"I'm going to go back to sssleep now," said the snake to Tom.  "Thanksss for noticing me."

"Okay. Maybe I'll visit you again sometime," said Tom, he turned around to see that the little boy was still staring at him.

"Something I can help you with?" the storeowner asked, eying Tom warily.

"N-no," said Tom, wondering what he had done this time.  He got the feeling he should leave so he went to Sarah and took her hand. "Sarah, we've got to go."

She groaned, "But—why?"

"Say goodbye to the kitties," he instructed, still feeling everyone's eyes on him. What did he do? Did he make something blow up on accident?

"Oh, okay," she said, putting the kitten down. "Bye, bye."

The cats meowed and jumped back up, trying to get at her.  Tom grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the store, the cats in he window were meowing at Sarah as if they were pleading for her to stay.

"Tom what is it?" Sarah questioned, noticing his worried expression.  "Are you all right?"

"Huh?" he asked.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  Fine.  Are you tired?  I can carry you."  He picked her up on his hip and began to walk faster.  Sarah sighed and put her arms around him, thinking that there was more to what Tom was telling her.

--

In June, letter arrived for Tom. Only it was strange about how that letter got there. A mailman didn't put it in the mail slot but an owl flew it.  The owl flew to the door and the letter flew into the mail slot and the owl flew off.  Miss Smith got the letter along with the rest of the mail and read the letter addressed to Tom.  After some consideration, she decided she should tell Tom the truth and called him to her office.

"You wanted to see me, Miss Smith?" he asked, closing the door behind him.  "Yes, sit down, Tom."

Tom was fiddling his fingers nervously. Was she going to move him to another orphanage for his _difference? _Maybe she was about to tell Tom that he was about to be adopted. He was thinking that his father wrote to him and wanted to take him home.  He was coming up with a list of things she was about to do when she finally turned from the window and handed him an envelope.

"Here," she said.  "You might find some answers in there."

"It's been opened," said Tom.

"I had to, Tom," Miss Smith explained.

Tom took the envelope, looking it over. It was an off yellow-whitish color with a seal of a snake, lion, badger and eagle on the back surrounding an H.  On the front, it was addressed to him in green letters.

MR. H RIDDLE.

LONDON ORPHANAGE

LONDON

He pulled the letter out of the envelope and read quietly to himself.

_Dear Mr. Riddle,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Please find an enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Deputy Headmaster_

"Is this a joke?" Tom demanded, looking the letter and list over.  

"No, Tom.  I really found it in with the mail."

"What do they mean by _owl?_  And how am I supposed to get all this?"

"I don't know."

"You're trying to get rid of me, aren't you?" Tom asked. "Because I'm different from the other kids."

"No, that isn't true."

"Isn't it?" Tom questioned.

"Tom, if you don't believe me, then why don't you go and see if this magic school is real."

Tom pressed his lips together.  Maybe he should.  It would answer some questions about his parents, how he got here and why weird things happened when he got scared and angry.  Whatever this place was, it certainly had kids there just like him with this strange ability.  He'd be able to get away from Bobby and the rest his bullies and when he came back, he could turn the tables.  Why not?  It was better than staying here and having Bobby chase him around.

"I'll go then," said Tom.  "I'll go to this school."

"I'll let the Headmaster know," said Miss Smith.  She took out a pen and paper and began to write.

_Dear Albus Dumbledore,_

_Tom will start at Hogwarts but he will need to know where to buy his things and how to get to the school.  Could you send another letter or someone from the school to help Tom get ready?_

_Miss Smith_

Just as she started to fold it, the owl that had brought Tom's letter tapped at the window.  Miss Smith gasped in surprised then let it in. It grabbed the letter in its beak and flew back out the window.

"Well," said Tom, pleased, "there's a way to send mail."

--

It didn't take long for the rest of the children to find out about Tom's letter. The girls, who all adored Tom, were now afraid of him.  The other boys acted like they didn't even know Tom and Bobby bullied Tom even more.

"Oh, you're going to a wizard school now, eh?" he asked during dinner one night.  "I always knew you were a _freak._"

There was just one person who thought that Tom's letter was a good thing. Sarah.

"Leave him alone, Bobby!" Sarah shouted, standing up.  "So what if he's a wizard.  You ought to be more careful what you say to him, or Tom will turn you into a pig!" She eyed his overloaded plate.  "You already _eat _like one!"  
"Sit down, Sarah," Miss Smith instructed.

Groaning, Sarah sat back down and leaned toward to Tom.  "I don't care if you're a wizard, Tom.  I think it's great."

"Why, thank you, Sarah," Tom said.  _I'm glad someone thinks so._

"But there's one thing that bothers me," Sarah admitted.  "You'll be away and I won't have anyone to talk to.  What if I get adopted while you're at Hogwarts?"

"Sarah, I'll be back next summer," Tom told her.  "I'll write to you by owl post."

"Owl post?  You use owls?"

"Yes," he said. "I'll be sure to buy one when I go to this _Diagon Alley _place."  He looked at a second letter from Hogwarts.

"How would you get there?" she asked.

"The letter said they'll be sending the gamekeeper over tomorrow morning," he answered.

"I wish I could come."  Sarah sighed.  "Sounds like fun, going to a magic school."

"Maybe someday you will," said Tom.  "Wait until the year you turn eleven and if you're lucky, you might.  You ever made anything happen when you were scared or angry?"  
"Like what? The things that you can do?"

"Yeah, making stuff disappear, healing quickly---can you do any of that stuff?" 

Sarah pondered hard but she couldn't remember a time that she could.  "No.  Can't say I have, Tom."

There was a reason why Sarah couldn't do things Tom could.  She wasn't a witch.  

--

Tom was stepping around nervously, waiting for the gamekeeper from Hogwarts to show up.  He kept looking out the window for someone that looked like a wizard to start walking up to the orphanage steps.  The person should be arriving any minute.  Pacing the room for the umpteenth time, he heard a rustle in fireplace.

"What the?" he asked. "A little early for Christmas, isn't it?" Tom said, looking at the fireplace.  "Hey, Santa!  Did you get stuck up there last year?"

While laughing, a man slid out of the fireplace and knocked Tom down and Tom's laughter were resorted to moaning.  

"Sorry about that," the man said, getting up and pulling Tom to his feet.  The man was old, short and pudgy with graying hair.

"Who are you?" Tom asked wearily as the man brushed soot on him.  

Before he could answer, Miss Smith walked in and screamed. "What the devil!  My carpet!"

"Don't worry ma'am," said the man, "I can clean it.  So we go, Tom?"

"Who are you?" Tom asked again.

"Oh, where are my manners!" the man laughed and put out his hand.  "I'm the gamekeeper at Hogwarts.  Calvin McKinnon.  Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It's all right, sir," said Tom.  

"Let's be off."  He turned to the fireplace.

"Through the fireplace?" Tom asked, confused.

"Yes, Tom."

"Tom, wait!" Sarah called, running down the stairs and throwing her arms around him. "I wanted to say goodbye first!"

"Sarah, I'll be back tonight," Tom told her.  "I will just be gone for today."

She squeezed him for good measure and let go.  "Will you tell me all about your day when you come back?"

"Of course, Sarah," Tom promised, giving her a hug.

"Oh, cute, is that your sister, Tom?" Calvin asked.

"No sir," Tom answered, "I'm just like a big brother to her anyway."

"I wish I could come too someday," said Sarah.

"Well, little lady, someday you will." Calvin cleared his throat and reached into his robe pocket.  "Now Tom, I'm going to show you how to use floo powder."

"Floo powder?" Tom questioned.

"Yes, that's how we travel with the fireplaces."

"Wow," said Sarah.

Calvin put a handful of floo powder into his hand.  "Now it is very important that you say it clearly. I'll go first to show you how it works.  Diagon Alley. That's all you've got to say.  Say it really loud."  Calvin cleared his throat and stepped back to the fireplace.  Tom watched intently as Calvin dropped the floo powder into the ashes.  "Diagon Alley!"

In a blast of emerald green flames, Calvin was gone.

"That was amazing," Sarah breathed.  "Go on, Tom! Do it!  I want to see that again!"

"Okay," Tom said nervously, walking to the fireplace.  He cleared his throat and kept whispering, "Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley," so that he wouldn't say it wrong and end up who knows where. 

Sarah waved at him.  "Bye, Tom."

"Bye Sarah," Tom said, waving back to her as he stepped into the fireplace.  He cleared his throat once again and dropped the handful of floo powder in the fireplace.  "Diagon Alley!"

In another blaze of green flames, Tom disappeared and Sarah shouted with excitement.  "I wish I could go someday!"

--

Tom slid out of an unknown fireplace, covered in soot and ash and sneezing.

"Fireplace hopping," Calvin said, pulling Tom to his feet. "Fun, isn't it?"  
"Not really," Tom groaned, rubbing his head.

 "You'll get used to it after away," Calvin said.  "To the bank we go."

"Bank?"

Calvin led Tom out of the store of Flourish and Blotts and outside on the town of Diagon Alley.  Children his age and up were walking around into all the stores with their parents. Tom's heart sank.  Why couldn't his parents be with him now?  It wasn't fair. Tom had the right as everyone else to have his parents with him on this special day but he had to have a wizard he never met before show him around.  

Tom followed Calvin into the Gringotts bank.  Tom was reading the inscription on the silver doors before following Calvin inside.   

_Enter, stranger, but take heed___

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,___

_For those who take, but do not earn,___

_Must pay most dearly in their turn___

_So if you seek beneath our floors___

_A treasure that is not yours,___

_Thief, you have been warned, beware___

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"You've got to be out of your mind to rob this place," said Calvin.

"What kind of stuff is in this bank anyway?" Tom questioned.

"Wizard money," Calvin replied, "Mostly, but there are some with just more than money.  In the lower faults with more valuable stuff, they even have dragons to guard them."

Tom hoped that his vault was one of those as he followed Calvin to the bench.  "What are--," Tom began, staring at the goblins.

"Goblins," Calvin replied before Tom could finish.

"Goblins?"

Calvin cleared his throat.  "Ah, good morning.  Tom is here to make a withdrawal."

"His key?" said the goblin.

"Key?" Tom asked, surprised but he was relieved when Calvin pulled out a small brass key.

--

The ride in the cart wasn't all a blast as some people might think.  Tom was looking around the vaults, wondering which one was his and if he even had one.  The cart came to a halt.

"Vault 542," said the goblin, coming out of the cart.  Tom followed him to the vault and Calvin gave the key to the goblin.  The goblin unlocked the vault and wondering what kind of treasure was behind the door, Tom hurried inside.  He could not believe it.

Gold, silver and bronze coins everywhere and a box at the end of one of the walls. Tom went to open the box and it had some dark items that looked pretty freaky.  On top of them laid a letter from his mother.

To my son or daughter 

Tom picked up the letter and shoved it in his pocket, giving a last glance the rest of the stuff in the box before closing it. Tom turned toe piles of wizard money.

"What do the different coins mean?" Tom asked.  

"Gold coins are called Galleons," making bag of money for him, "silver Sickles and bronze are Knuts.  Seventeen sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle.  I think that should be enough for you, Tom."

"Okay," said Tom, taking it.  "Thanks."

They went to get Tom new robes first, his books and other school supplies.  "All right," said Tom, finishing the list. "All I need now is an owl and a wand."

"Time certainly has flown by," Mr. McKinnon said, looking at his watch.  

Tom entered Ollivander's wand shop and approached the desk.  Mr. Ollivander was not around so Tom rang the bell.  Mr. Ollivander came whirling by on a wheeled ladder.  "Ahh, good afternoon."

"Afternoon, sir," said Tom.  "I'd like to buy a wand."

"Let me see now," Mr. Ollivander said, taking out a box from the shelf.  "Let's start with this one.  Unicorn hair and cedar, nine inches."

Mr. Ollivander handed Tom the wand and Tom looked at it.

"Give it a wave."

Tom raised an eyebrow and swung the wand, shooting silver sparks that just made noise.

"Was that it?" Tom asked, confused.

Mr. Ollivander took the wand away, shaking his head. "No. No."  He gave him another wand.  "Ten inches, maple, dragon heartstring."

Tom was starting to feel like he was going to be here all day to pick out a wand.  How hard of a task was it to get a wand? 

"Wait, wait," said Mr. Ollivander, "I do have something…"  He turned around and went down many rows of wand boxes.  Tom leaned over the counter to watch him pull out quite a long box and hurried back.  He took the lid off and pulled out a long wand.  "Thirteen and a half inches, holly, phoenix feather. Try it out."

Tom noticed a difference the second he touched the wand.  There was warmth.  He swished the wand as if it were a sword; red and gold sparks blazing around it.

"Excellent," said Calvin.  "And I thought I was a tricky customer."

Tom almost didn't want to let go of the wand and he frowned once Mr. Ollivander took the wand away, placed it back in the box, wrapping brown paper around it.  

"Curious.  Interesting," said Mr. Ollivander.  "Curious."

"Excuse me?" Tom asked.

"Tom Riddle, the wand chooses the wizard," Mr. Ollivander explained.  "I find it curious that you are destined for this wand."

"What about it?" Tom questioned.  "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Oh, no, no, dear boy," Mr. Ollivander replied.  "This wand is very powerful.  Thirteen-and-a-half-inches, phoenix feather.  I wouldn't be surprised, Tom Riddle, if you'll use this wand to do great things.  You can do great, very great things."  
"I intend to," said Tom ambitiously.  

"Another thing that is curious," said Mr. Ollivander.  "There is another wand with a feather from the same phoenix—just one.  I am curious, very curious indeed, for who that wand is destined for."

All this talk about curiosity was starting to make Tom feel curious as well, but he wished Mr. Ollivander would finish up so he could go ahead and pay for his wand.

"How much?" Tom asked.

"Curious, how—oh—eight Galleons."  
Following the wand shop, Tom went with Calvin to get a pet owl.

"Useful, owls," said Calvin as they were picking out an owl.  "Carry your mail for you and everything."

Tom looked at all the all the owls in their cages, reading the information about him. He wanted the swiftest, most powerful and pedigreed animal in the shop.  He saw a real powerful looking owl, reddish brown sitting in a cage.

"I'll take this one," said Tom.

"Wise choice there," Calvin added.  "I will go and get you your ticket at King Cross' station."

"With floo powder?" Tom asked nervously.

Calvin chuckled.  "Not your favorite way to travel, eh, Tom?  I'll show you a different way through.  The Underground.  Very useful."

Tom saw a sign that pointed to Knocturn Alley.  Tom pointed.

"Calvin, what's Knocturn Alley?" Tom asked curiously.

"No place you'd want to be wandering down, Tom," Calvin replied.  "Awful, dangerous place for a kid your age."

But as Tom walked away from the sign, he thought that someday he would go down there, just to have a look.

Calvin showed Tom the back way through the underground by tapping on blocks of an alley, taking him into a side door of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom liked this route much better.

--

When Tom got back, he told Sarah all about his day in Diagon Alley.  The other kids getting their school stuff, the stores, the bank, his wand and everything, what the word muggle meant, Tom talked about an hour.  Sarah noticed something poking out of his pocket.

"Tom, what's that?" she asked.

It was the letter from his mother.  Tom forgot all about it.  Tom reached inside his pocket and pulled out the letter.

"It's from my mother," he answered.

"You read it?"

"No."

"I'll leave you alone so you can read it if you want me too."

"No, Sarah, you can stay."  Tom sighed.  "I'm not sure I want to open it though."

"Why?  Don't you want to know?"

After hesitating for a bit, Tom opened the letter read it.

_To my dear son or daughter,_

_I am leaving my money and magical items for you when you get old enough to use them.  Hogwarts will be your home away from home and I hope that you do your very best. Your father was a muggle and left me after I told him I was a witch. Your muggle father was kind until he learned I was magical, but he came from a rich and rude muggle family.  _

_But I still loved your father even after he left.  I feel myself growing sick with sadness and this small fortune is all I can leave for you._

_Love,_

_Your Mother_

Tom stared at the letter, unable to believe it.  "No.  No."

"Tom…" Sarah began.

"She knew…she knew she was dying.  My father just left her when she told him she was a witch."  Tom said, shaking his head, getting up and pacing.  "She knew she was going to die so she left me her money. It was all she could leave me.  My father left her.  He just left her. I mean, who…who just _leaves _his wife before his son is even born?  Why didn't he stay? Just because she was magical…he could've learned to accept it, wouldn't' he?"

Sarah wasn't sure what to say. She was just a little kid. "I'm sorry, Tom."  Sarah wished she could say something to make Tom feel better but she was too young to understand.  "But, you still have me."  
Tom smiled and sat back down on the couch.  "Thank you, Sarah."

Sarah scurried to Tom on her knees and put her arms around him.  Tom cried.

**To Be Continued**


	4. Until We Meet Again

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle

**Chapter 4**

**Until We Meet Again**

_Note: I'm putting in Lucius Malfoy's, Crabbe and Goyle's great granddaddies or whatever they would be in Tom's era in here.  I wouldn't doubt Lucius dad and granddad were Death Eaters too.  I've also added a couple of other names that might sound familiar because I'm too brain dead to think of any others! Does anyone know the timeframe Molly and Arthur went to Hogwarts?  I'm guessing they're from the late forties, early fifties.  I'll put in Arthur's parents in as seventh years.  All this math is confusing to figure out!  I don't know about you guys, but it hurts my head to think too much!_

"Tom," Sarah whispered, her arms around the older boy, "it will be okay. I'm sorry about your mom and dad, but I'm sill here.  I'm still here."

Worried that someone will see him in tears, Tom took in a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm all right," he said. "I'll be okay."

"Are you sure, Tom?" she asked soothingly.

"Yes," He said, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes.  If Bobby saw him crying he'd tease him for sure.  "I shouldn't be so sad.   It happened a long time ago."

"But you are a good person, Tom," said Sarah, "you did not deserve this."

"Thanks Sarah," Tom mumbled.  "But sometimes, bad things happen to good people.  No one knows why these things happen, they just do…even though it's not fair…not fair that my father left my mother before I was even born…left her to die."

"I wish there was something I could say," Sarah told him.  "I'm sorry you're hurt, Tom, but it will get better."

"Yeah," said Tom, getting to his feet.  "I'm tired from all that shopping."

"You'll feel better after some sleep."  She kissed his cheek.  "Good night, Tom."

"Good night, Sarah," tom said over his shoulder and stepped toward the stairs.

"Tom?" asked Sarah.

"Yes?"

Sarah paused, searching for the right words. "Never forget that you _are _a good person," she said.  "What happened to your parents was not your fault. I wish I could say more…but I'm just a kid…but I know you're a good person and it will get better, you see."

Tom was so moved by his he went toward, her, picked her up in his arms and gave her the biggest bear hug.  The tears he fought to keep back inked out of his eyes.

"Oh, Sarah," Tom choked on a sob, "I don' know what I'd do without you."

Sarah tightened her arms around his neck.  "I don't know what I'd do without you."  
Tom hugged her tighter, kissed her cheek a couple of times, and rubbed her head as he walked up the stairs.  He took her to the girl's room first.

"Sweet dreams, Sarah," said Tom, setting her to her feet.  

"You too, Tom," she said, turning the knob.  "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Tom smiled, wiped his eyes and went up to the boys' floor. Bobby was arm wrestling with Patrick on the floor, Ned being the referee.  Tom decided to be quiet and just get ready for bed, but Bobby decided to pick on Tom.  Now he had more ammunition, more reasons to tease Tom.

"Hey, Tom," Bobby began, getting to his feet.  "Did you have fun at that—what was that place called again."

"Diagon Alley."  Tom replied softly.  He tried to ignore them.

 "Oh yeah, _Diagon Alley.  _What kind of town is that?  _Diagon Alley?_"

"So," Ned sniggered, "get enough for school?"  
"Tell us, Riddle," Bobby grinned, "when do you leave for this _school for freaks?_" 

Tom clenched his fist and turned around.  "September first.  When are you leaving for the zoo?"

Bobby's grin disappeared and Ned and Patrick laughed.  

"Shut up, you two!" Bobby growled, elbowing them in the ribs.

"Sorry---Bobby," Patrick wheezed.

"Think you're better than me, don't you, Riddle?" Bobby inquired, grabbing him by the collar.  

"You shouldn't make me angry, Bobby," said Tom, whipping out his wand.

"Ooh, nice _stick_ Riddle!" Bobby howled.  "What are you going to do, Riddle? Poke me to death?"

"It's a _wand_," Tom said firmly, his dark eyes flashing with anger.  "Thirteen-and-a-half-inches, made out of black poplar and you know what's in it?  A phoenix feather.  The person who sold it to me said there's only one other wand with a feather from the same phoenix.  You know what else that old man told me, Bobby?  He said this is a very _powerful _wand.  Oh yes, he also said he wouldn't be surprised if I did great things with this wand--some very great things--even _terrible _things. This is more powerful that that thick fist of yours, Bobby.  I picked up a nice book at Flourish and Botts today called _Curses and Countercurses_…so unless you want me to do something _great and terrible _to you, say…lock your legs together so you'd have to hop around like a stupid jack rabbit, then you ought to show me better respect."

"Ooh, tough talk, Riddle." Bobby muttered.

"Remember boys," said Tom in a threatening, yet playful voice, "you can beat me up with your bare hands, but I can do much worse with this _little stick _here.  Once I get to Hogwarts I'll be learning lots of interesting things to get you back for all that you did to me.  Just remember, you have your muscles, but I've got a magic wand, so don't mess with me. Good night." Thinking this had settled the matter; Tom went to bed and fell asleep, feeling better than he had in years.

--

Tom counted the days until September first.  He went over his spell books, sometimes with Sarah.  

"Pick a book, Sarah," said Tom, settling on 'their' usual spot on the sofa down in the den.

"Okay," said Sara, filing through Tom's book collection.  "Let's see," she took out a large and heavy book titled _Hogwarts, A History.  _"This one, Tom!" she squealed, trying it to carry it to him.  "Ghuh—heavy."

Tom laughed and took the book from Sarah before she strained herself and she climbed into his lap.  "_Hogwarts a History," _he said.

"We haven't read this one yet," said Sarah.

Tom cleared his throat and turned to the first page.  "_Hogwarts, A History.  For centuries, magic has existed in the world.  Witches and wizards alike have used their unimaginable skills to improve themselves but it was difficult to coexist with other people without magical powers.  Many of these people feared witches and wizards and at that time, wizards and witches suffered much persecution.  It was difficult to find a safe haven for magical beings to enhance their gifts until over a thousand years ago when four witches and wizards came together and made it possible for young witches and wizards to improve themselves in a school of witchcraft and wizardry.  They came from far and wide to found the school.  Godric Gryffindor from wild moor, Rowena Ravenclaw from the glen, Helga Hufflepuff from the valley and Salazar Slytherin, from the fen—these great witches and wizards—were the Hogwarts four."_

Tom read the first two chapters and thought the history of the school he was about to go to would be interesting, all the information was getting to be a little boring.  Sarah fell fast asleep in his lap and he weren't too far behind her.  When he noticed that she was asleep---in mid yawn—he couldn't disagree with her.  He closed the large history book quietly and kissed her forehead.

"We won't read that one again," Tom whispered, smiling slightly.  

However, if Tom only knew that he was the heir of one of the Hogwarts founders, he would have continued reading the book to the last cover.

--

The day before term Tom stood over his bed and went over the school list, checking things off that he should need.  Tom couldn't remember being so antsy.  He'd feel really stupid if he were to come to the station and realize he left his wand or an important book or his toothbrush.  Tom wished that he wasn't the only one from the orphanage leaving for this school and that way he'd have someone to talk with on the train.  If only Sarah was a few years older, they could go together.  Though Tom was excited about learning magic, becoming the kind of man he _should _be instead of some farmer's son chopping firewood all day, he was a bit reluctant to leave Sarah behind.  Sarah was the only one who still liked him after hearing that he was a wizard going off to a magic school. 

Before he packed another thing, checked another item off his list, there was something else he had to do.  Was Sarah really all right with Tom going or was she just saying that for his sake?  Tom turned from his bed and went to the girls' sleeping quarters.  A few girls gasped and stopped playing for a bit, then hurried back to what they were doing before Tom suspected them.  Tom walked over to Sarah's bed as she was playing with her doll.

"Sarah?" he asked.

"Yes, Tom?"

Tom sat down on the bed and Sarah pulled her doll up to her.  He sighed heavily.  "You really want me to go?  To Hogwarts?"

"Why are you asking me?" Sarah questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you want to go?  You've already bought everything for school tomorrow."

"Yes, I know," said Tom, "but I want to know if you're okay with me going."

"Yeah," she said.

"Are you?" Tom questioned.  

Sarah nodded.  "Yes, of course, I am Tom.  You really should go to your school.  Why are you asking me?"

"I guess," Tom sighed, "don't want you to feel like I'm abandoning you or anything—that I'll forget you—or you'll be sad."

"Oh, Tom," Sarah smiled, "I don't think I'll ever forget you."

Tom smiled back.  "You…you really think I should go?  You're okay with it?  You won't miss me?"

"I don't think I can't stop from missing you, Tom," said Sarah, "but that shouldn't stop you from going.  I'll miss you very much while you're gone, but I think you know what you should do. You just do what _feels _right Tom."

Tom pondered that.  It felt right to go, but it didn't' feel right to leave Sarah behind either.  How was he going to keep her from missing him too much?  It was near impossible.  What did he have to give her?  When Tom thought about it, he was going to miss Sarah very much too. Finally, Tom thought of something.

"Sarah, can I see your doll?" he inquired.

Sarah looked confused for a second and handed her rag doll to the boy.  Tom pulled the doll to his chest and squeezed it in an embrace and handed it back to Sarah.

"There, Sarah," said tom, "when you hug your doll, you'll be getting a hug from me too."

Sarah gasped, tears filled her pretty green eyes and she hugged him.  "Oh, Tom…I'll try not to miss you…but I know I will…I'll think of you all the time."

"I'll miss you too, Sarah," Tom admitted.  "I promise, I'll send you lots of letters.  That's what I've got my owl for.  I'll send you a letter as soon as I get settled.  I promise."

"Oh, thank you, Tom!" she squealed.  She kissed his cheek.  "You'd better get some rest, or you'll sleep in."

"I don't think that will be possible," said Tom, standing up.  "I'm too excited."

Indeed, Tom tossed and turned a few times in his sleep and stared up at the ceiling.  In a couple of hours he'd be on a train to the best school he'd ever been to.  Tom was sure about this, even though he hasn't been there or known someone who has and just read the first two chapters in _Hogwarts, A History, _Tom knew he would have lots of fun at Hogwarts.  Tom was ambitious.  He wanted to be the best wizard in the school, the best wizard alive even. Eventually, he fell into a sleep full of happy, exciting dreams of being the greatest wizard ever.  

Tom woke up at 8 the next morning, took a quick shower and changed into his school uniform, wanting to make a good impression once he got to the station.  He combed his hair neatly and went down the stairs, smelling breakfast.  Mrs. Crabtree left him a good, hearty breakfast.

"Mrs. Crabtree," Tom said, his mouth hanging open, "I'm just going to school…not the army!"

Mrs. Crabtree smiled.  "Well, Tom, it might be some time until you get to your school and I don't want you to go there hungry."

"Well, why thank you, Mrs. Crabtree."  Tom sat down and began to eat his hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, eggs, pancakes orange juice and milk. He hoped the food at school would be as good as Mrs. Crabtree's cooking.

Miss Smith walked out of her office.  "Oh, good, Tom, you're awake.  Mr. Paten will take you to the train station.  When does your train leave again?"

"Eleven," he replied immediately and looked at the clock.  It was 9:30 and Tom wanted to get there early.  He drained his milk.  "I'll go get my trunk."

Tom hurried upstairs to brush his teeth, throw his black robe around him and grab the rest of his stuff.  Bobby yawned and pulled himself up from his bed.

"Oh, you're going now, Riddle?" Bobby asked. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You needed your beauty sleep," Tom said out of the corner of his mouth.

"What was that?"

Tom picked up his owl's cage, took a handle of his trunk and grinned at Bobby.  "See you next summer.  Try not to miss me, all right?"

"Yeah," Bobby sniggered, "and don't forget to write."

"What makes you think I'll waste ink and parchment on _you?_" Tom demanded as he left the room, pulling his trunk behind him.  Bobby groaned and lay back down.

Tom went downstairs, trying to handle the large trunk and his cage at the same time.  Hearing the bumps on the steps, Sarah woke with a start and hurried out the room to catch him before he left.

"Tom! Tom!" she cried. "Wait!  I want to say goodbye!"

Tom turned so suddenly that he almost fell down the stairs.  "Sarah?"

Sarah put her arms around him. "I'm going to miss you, Tom!"

"My train doesn't leave for another hour and a half," said Tom. "You can wait downstairs with me until I have to go.  Mr. Paten is taking me."

"Okay!  Here, let me help you with those!  Can I carry your owl?"

"Sure.  You know, I haven't named him yet." Tom said as they walked down the stairs.  "Why don't you name him for me?"

Sarah looked at the gray great horned owl sleeping inside the cage.  She pondered and said finally. "Smoke."

"Smoke?"

"Yes…he's so gray."

"Smoke it is."

Tom and Sarah waited down in the den for Mr. Paten as Sarah ate her breakfast.  "I wish I could go with you," said Sarah.

"Maybe you will someday."  Tom said hopefully.

Mr. Paten came in. "Tom, it's almost ten.  I got the team hitched up.Ready to go?"

"Yes, sir."  Tom got up.  "Can you take my trunk?"

"Absolutely," Mr. Paten grunted and picked up Tom's trunk.  "Whoa, boy, what'd you got in there?"  Mr. Paten walked away to let Tom say goodbye to Sarah.

Sarah set her spoon down and turned to him.  "I promised myself I wouldn't cry."

"Then just give me a hug," said Tom, stretching his arms out for her.

Sarah jumped into Tom's arms and embraced him.  "I'm going to miss you, Tom.  I'll miss you so much."  
Tom hugged her in return.  "Me too."

Nevertheless, tears leaked out from Sarah's eyelashes. She sniffed and pecked his cheek.  "I miss you already."

Tom pu.led back and noticed her tearstained face. "Hey, I thought you said you wouldn't cry."

"I can't help it," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.  "I'll miss you."

"Don't worry, Sarah," he told her, trying to get her to smile.  "I'll be back before you know it."

"Okay," she said, forcing a smile.  "You'd better get going or you'll miss your train."

Tom sat her down. "Goodbye, Sarah."

"Bye," she sniffed, waving.  "Have fun!"

Tom waved back, picked up Smoke's cage and went out to see Mr. Paten climbing into the front of the stagecoach.  Tom set down the cage and pulled himself up and sat next to Mr. Paten.  Because the orphanage had no car, they used a horse drawn carriage for transportation.  Most of the ride, they were quiet.

Sarah looked out the window and watched Tom leave with Mr. Paten. Why did she have a nagging feeling that she shouldn't let him go? Was something going to happen to Tom while he was away, something bad?

"Bet it would be interesting to go to a magic school," said Mr. Paten finally.  "I remember my school days.  I didn't learn a lick.  I wasn't the brightest kid in school."

"Not a lot of kids do like school, Mr. Paten," Tom said.  "How do you feel about magic, Mr. Paten?"

Mr. Paten shrugged.  "I suppose it's interesting to learn.  I could clean the orphanage quicker that way!" He grinned and winked at Tom. "Ah, but I don't mind working hard.  That's what's important, Tom.  Hard work.  Let me give you some advice.  I probably don't know anything about changing people into toads or making fire with snapping my fingers and it probably sounds really easy, but there's hard work in everything.  You're probably thinking magic might be simple, Tom, but no school ever is.  Just don't do what I did, Tom.  Don't be lazy thinking you can shout 'hocus pocus' and expect everything to work for you.  Hard work, Tom, that's what important.  Put all your blood and sweat in it and at the end, it will all seem worth it."

Tom looked up at Mr. Paten, confused.  "What?"

Mr. Paten laughed. "I'm sorry, Tom.  I'm making no sense."  He patted his shoulder.  "I just wanted to give you some advice before your term.  Just work hard, Tom.  If you want something bad enough, you've got to be willing to do everything to get it.  Be the best you can be, all right?"

"All right, sir," said Tom with a nod.  "I'll be the best I can be."

"There's a good lad," Mr. Paten chuckled.  "Well, here we are Tom. Whoa. Whoa."  He pulled on the reins to make the horses stop and jumped off to get Tom's trunk.  He put it on a cart for him and Tom set Smoke on top of the trunk.

"Thank you for taking me to the station, Mr. Paten."  Tom said politely.  

"You're welcome, Tom."  Mr. Paten said, shaking Tom's hand.  "Now you just remember what I told you a'ight? Don't get yourself in trouble.  Until we meet again."

"Goodbye Mr., Paten, sir," said Tom, pushing his cart into the station.  

"Don't forget to write now!" Mr. Paten waved and jumped back onto the stagecoach.  

Tom pushed his cart into the station, reading over his ticket.  "Platform nine-and-three-quarters," he said to himself.  "Seven, eight, nine, and ten…" he stopped between nine and ten, looking for the platform he should be going to. "Where is platform nine-and-three-quarters?  It should be right here between nine and ten."

Tom waited there for a minute or two, thinking if this whole thing was real or not.  Was this Hogwarts a real school?  Had this been some dream and any second now he'd be waking up when Bobby and his cronies decided to give him a rude awakening?  But it couldn't be just his imagination.  Tom really felt this was real.  He had a wand, a very powerful wand and an owl, a trunk full of magic books, and equipment.  This had to be real. Tom felt it.

"Maybe it's hidden behind this wall," Tom said to himself.  Tom looked around the station for people dressed like him, heading for the platform but he didn't see anyone.  Gripping tightly on his cart, Tom walked a couple feet away from the barrier between nine and ten and looked at the two platforms.  If he were right, he'd go right onto the platform and if he were wrong, he'd smash right into the wall and hurt himself. Either way, Tom was prepared.  He was glad that Bobby wasn't around to watch him.

"One—two—three," Tom counted and rushed toward the barrier.  He tried to rid the thought that he was going to crash into it. Bad thoughts would not help.  Tom thought of how great he will be once he got to Hogwarts.  He was now just a foot away from the barrier. He could still stop if he was afraid of hitting it, but Tom couldn't stop.  He ran, closed his eyes and just kept on running, running, running along.

Tom opened his eyes and saw the platform 9 ¾.  Tom stopped and looked behind him to see the wall.  It worked!  He had figured it out all by himself.  Grinning to himself and thinking how brilliant he was to figure out to get on the platform, Tom walked to the train indicated as HOGWARTS EXPRESS.  A young man in a red suit placed Tom's belongings in the luggage cart for him and Tom found a quiet seat in one of the compartments.  He sat there impatiently waiting for the train to start moving.  Tom looked at his watch.  The train would be leaving in thirty minutes.  To pass the time, he pulled out his potions book from his bag and began to read.

Other Hogwarts students boarded the train, talking about how excited they were about going to Hogwarts. The compartments were filling up and a boy with platinum blond hair came to Tom's compartment.

"Are these seats saved?" he asked.  "I'm looking for my two friends but I haven't seen them yet.  They're kind of thick.  I bet they're looking for the cart witch."

"No," said Tom, looking over his book.  "You can sit if you want to."

The boy sat down across from Tom.  "First year at Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Mine too.  I'm Alaric Malfoy."

{AN: The reason I'm naming him Alaric because it means all ruler.  Sounds fitting.}

Tom sniggered.  

"Think my name's funny, now do ya?"

"Not an ordinary name," said Tom.

"What's yours, then?" he questioned lazily.

"Riddle." Tom answered. "Tom Riddle."

"Tom Riddle?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Tom said.

"Riddle's your surname?" Alaric questioned, pondering over the name.  "I don't know any Riddles…are you muggleborn?"

"Muggleborn?" 

"Your parents, are they muggles?  Non-magic folk?"

"My father was."  Tom explained.  "My mother was a witch."

"So you're a halfblood," Alaric said casually.

"Halfblood?" Tom inquired, testily, throwing his book to the side. He didn't start to like this boy much at all.

"Yes…you've got one magical parent."  Alaric continued.  "Magic goes back in my family for generations and generations. I don't think that other sort should be aloud in Hogwarts."

"What other sort?  You mean muggleborns?"

"Yes.  They're no good.  Wait until you hear about muggleborns, you see what I mean."

"I guess," Tom said softly.

"What was your mother's surname?  Maybe we'd know her."

"I don't know," said Tom, "My father left her when she told him she was magical.  She died while giving birth to me.  She lived just long enough to name me."

"Then how did you buy all your school things?" Alaric asked, confused.

"The gamekeeper took me to Diagon Alley."

"Oh," said Alaric, "sorry."

"Are you?" Tom demanded.  "I live in a muggle orphanage where half the kids hate me because I'm different.  Unless you want me to tell you to get out and find another place to sit, you'd better learn some manners.  I didn't come here to get in any more fights.  I came here to learn magic."

"That a threat?"

"Take it how you want it, Malfoy," Tom said, narrowing his dark eyes.  Tom picked up his book and continued reading.

"Studying the potion book?" Malfoy asked.

"Yes, it's interesting."

"I haven't read mine yet," Malfoy said with a grin, obviously proud of himself.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't have to," Malfoy told him.  "I'll be in Slytherin House."

"How do you know?" Tom inquired.  

"My whole family's been in Slytherin.  The Head of Slytherin House teaches potions. Professor Griddle.  He'll pass us just for showing up to class.  What house do you think you'll be in?"  
"Uh," Tom patted his chin, "not sure.  I didn't read all of _Hogwarts, A History.  _Whatever's the best."

"That'd be Slytherin then," Malfoy nodded.  "Best of all four of them.  If I was sorted into any of the others, I'd leave."

 Two big boys walked by the compartment.  Malfoy jumped up.

"Well, there you two are!" he exclaimed. "Where have you been?"

One of them pulled out a handful of wizard candy.

"I should've known," said Malfoy.  "Well, sit down, you two."  He looked at Tom.  "This is Crabbe and Goyle by the way."

Tom looked up at the two big boys.  They looked like a couple of Bobby clones.  

"Hello," said Tom politely.  

"Here, Tom, try a chocolate frog," Alaric said quickly, taking a chocolate frog before Crabbe ate it.  "You can start collecting all the famous witches and wizards—of course, none were as famous Salazar Slytherin."

"Thanks," Tom said and took the chocolate frog.  He opened it up to find the card for Salazar Slytherin.  "Speak of the devil!  I got Slytherin!"

"It's got to be a sign," Alaric insisted.  "You've got to be in Slytherin House, Tom."

Tom looked at the picture of Slytherin.  He had blond going gray hair and dark eyes. Something about Slytherin looked familiar.  Tom read the inscription about him.

_Salazar Slytherin in one of the four founders for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Slytherin House is named after him and was one of the greatest wizards of all time.  The most famous factor of Salazar Slytherin is that he was a Parselmouth._

"What's a Parselmouth?" Tom asked.

"Someone who can speak to snakes," Malfoy explained.  "That's why the symbol of Slytherin is a serpent.  You'll see once we get there, Tom.  I know…I'm excited too. I just can't wait until we get there."

--

It was quite a long ride and though Malfoy had bothered Tom when he first saw him, he started to think he was interesting at how much he knew about Hogwarts. It beat having to read the thick book of _Hogwarts, A History.  _Malfoy knew who were good and who were bad.  Tom listened, finding that he ought to introduce Malfoy to Bobby and see how they would like each other. They finally made it to the Hogwarts ground by around eight o'clock that night.  Tom followed Malfoy and his cronies outside where the gamekeeper was yelling for the first years.  Tom got in the same boat as Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.  

"My father says there's a giant squid in this lake," Malfoy said in his drawling voice, pointing into the lake.  "I hope it eats a mudblood this year." Before Tom could ask what that was, Malfoy quickly said it's what purebloods call muggleborns.

When they got to the other side of the lake, McKinnon, the gamekeeper, led them inside the castle where a tall wizard with auburn hair and beard greeted them.

"Here are the first years, Professor Dumbledore," said McKinnon.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said.  "I'll take it from here.  Make sure the other students get here."

McKinnon left and Dumbledore looked at the crowd of first years.  There was something about Dumbledore that made Tom's heart fly into his throat.   It had to be his eyes, because when Dumbledore looked at him with those bright, blue eyes, Tom shivered as if there were a draft.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, "Before we go into the Great Hall and join the Opening Feast, I must tell you about the four Hogwarts Houses.  They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and," Dumbledore looked right at Tom when he said the last one.  "Slytherin."

Tom found himself gulping. Why did this old man unnerve him?  Did he know something about him?  He didn't have enough time to ponder this because Malfoy nudged him in the ribs and nodded with a grin.

"Slytherin," he said. "That's where you want to be, Riddle."

"You will be sorted into your houses before the banquet.  Remember that breaking the rules will result in loosing points but if you abide by the rules, you will receive points. I ask that you be kind enough to wait as I check and see the rest of the students have arrived in the great hall.  Very important, the Sorting Ceremony."

Dumbledore smiled and walked away.

"Who is he?" Tom asked Malfoy quickly.

"Professor Dumbledore," Malfoy answered.  "He was a teacher when my parents when here. He's head of Gryffindor house."

"What subject does he teach?"  
"Transfiguration," Malfoy answered dryly. "I hope he changes into a bee and buzz out of here."

Tom nodded.  He had to agree with him.  Tom hoped that he wouldn't end up in Dumbledore's house he'd have to go back to the orphanage.

"Oooh!  Ickle firsties!" cackled a high voice.

"Who said that?" Malfoy asked, turning around.

"I don't know," Tom looked up.  

A little man in bright colored clothes appeared, took off a flag from the wall and dropped it over the group.

"PEEVES!" shouted a voice.  "THAT'S ENOUGH!"  A ghost with silver bloodstains on his clothes came through the wall.  "Term hasn't even started yet!"

The other ghost gasped and turned.  "Your baron-ship! I was just welcoming the first years, sir."

"Go," said the baron. "Now!"

"Yes, yes sir."  With a crack, the poltergeist disappeared.

"Never mind him," said the Bloody Baron, "he is just the poltergeist.  I am the baron—ghost of Slytherin House—if Peeves bothers you, I'll take care of him.  Hope to see you in Slytherin House."

Three other ghosts appeared with the Bloody Baron.  "Well done, Baron," said a fat monk.  "But Peeves was just giving them a welcoming.  Hogwarts would be rather dull without him."

"We've given him too much chances already," said another ghost.  "Oh, welcome to Hogwarts.  I am Nearly Headless Nick, but you can call me Sir Nicolas."  He tugged on his ear and if it weren't for the tiny piece of flesh left on his neck, his head would've fallen off.  A few girls screamed and nearly fell down the stairs.  "I am the ghost of Gryffindor, at your service!"

 "I am the Grey Lady," said the only female ghost in the group, "I represent Ravenclaw."

"Ah, noticed the first years?" Dumbledore said, walking up.  "We are ready for you now."

"Good luck!" cried the Fat Friar and the ghosts went through separate walls.

"I'm glad he's not the Slytherin ghost," said Malfoy, looking over his shoulder to the Fat Friar. "Bloody Baron, he's the best. The only one in the whole school that can keep Peeves under control."

"I agree," said Tom, "I wouldn't want to wake up when the poltergeist decides to splash water on me."

Tom looked down the four long tables as he followed Malfoy to the front. Dumbledore picked up a long scroll. Anxiously, Tom clenched his fists and bit his bottom lip. The sorting was about to begin and in a short time, Tom's life was about to change forever.

**To Be Continued******


	5. Slytherin Blood

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 5

**Slytherin Blood**

_Disclaimer: I'm guessing Neville's grandmother went to Hogwarts around the same time Tom did so I'll put her in the same year, along with Harry's grandfather.  I'll have Molly and Arthur's parents graduating this year, but add in the Weasley name anyway.  I bet they both came from large families and Ron says something about an uncle Billius seeing a Grim.  I'm also putting Moaning Myrtle in Tom's year. WE don't know what year or house she is in, but there's a reason why I'm doing this._

_.  _

Tom looked up at an old and shabby wizard hat sitting atop a wooden stool.  Before his very dark eyes, a crease in the middle of the hat opened up like a mouth and started to sing.

_"You must wonder what kind of hat is this,_

_This hat you see, can show you much bliss._

_I'm different than all other hats,_

_I'll separate mice from rats._

_Just call me the Hogwarts Sorting Hat._

_Where is it that you ought to be?_

_Just wait a while and you shall see._

_Are you brave and daring?_

_Is there a lion inside you somewhere?_

_Gryffindor may be the place you'll be staying._

_Tell me, are you loyal and just?_

_Someone easy to trust?_

_That would make you a badger in Hufflepuff._

_Do you love studying and learning things anew?_

_Is there a bright light in your head shining through?_

_Let your brain fly with the eagles of Ravenclaw._

_Or is there something else of devotion?_

_Do you have drive and motivation?_

_Come, ambitious one and join the snakes of Slytherin._

_Don't know who you are just yet?_

_Give me a moment and I will bet,_

_You will find where you belong_

_And so now ends my song!"_

Everyone broke into applause and Tom thought over the Hat's song.  Where were would the Sorting Hat place him?  Dumbledore took out a long scroll.

"I will call your name and place the hat on your head," he said.  "Once it placed you in a house, you are to sit at that table.  Now then," he cleared his throat.

"Anderson, Andy."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Sylvia."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Brown, Alexander."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bulstrode, Rod."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Crabbe, Michael."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Tom stood watching, waiting for his name to be called.  He wasn't sure where he wanted to go.  Every time someone was placed into Slytherin, Malfoy nudged Tom in the ribs, grinned and nodded.  Perhaps he was right that Slytherin was the best house.  

"Goyle, Karl."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Hornby, Olive."

A skinny girl with golden blond wavy waist length hair walked up to the front, swaying her hips. She turned, smiling like she was miss perfect and sat her small little bottom on the stool, twirling her hair around a finger, her fingernails painted dark red.  She had gorgeous sparkling blue eyes that seemed to entice every boy in the room, including Tom.  Once he caught her eyes, he knew he wanted to be in whatever house she was.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Flipping her hair, Olive stood up and strutted to the Slytherin table.  Tom checked his watch. Why was his name so far in the alphabet?  The damn sorting hat took sometimes thirty minutes sorting some people.  Slowly, gradually, the knot of people waiting to be sorted was shrinking. They reached the "M's"

"Malfoy, Alaric!"

Looking confident and surly, Alaric marched to the front and sat on the stool.  It only sat on his head for about five seconds until it declared him a Slytherin.  Smirking, Alaric sat at the Slytherin table between Crabbe and Goyle.

"Mason, Myrtle!"

A girl in dark brown pigtails gasped when her name was called and she was shaking so furiously with anxiety that she tripped over her own feet.  Some people gasped and looked on in concern, hid giggles whereas the Slytherin Table howled with laughter. Tom looked around and covered his mouth.  He tried not to laugh but the girl looked so pathetic he couldn't' help it. Olive Hornby pointed her finger at her.

"What an idiot!" she shrieked.

Pink in the face, Myrtle pushed herself up and still shaking, she sat down on the stool. Dumbledore talked everyone down to silence as he dropped the hat on Myrtle's head and it went over her eyes. The sorting hat took quite some time sorting her.  

"I bet she's a mudblood!" Olive hissed to the other Slytherins around her.

Myrtle covered her face and waited for the Sorting Hat to sort her, that is, if she belonged anywhere.

_'Difficult, quite difficult,' _said a voice in her ear.

'I don't belong anywhere, do I?" she thought.  'I knew it.  I knew when I got that letter I couldn't be a real witch. My parents don't know the slightest thing about magic!  Someone put that letter in my mailbox as a joke!  But I'm willing to try if you'll just give me a chance, just give me a chance.'  Myrtle cried softly into her hands.

_'Hard worker, eh?'_

'Yes, yes I am.  I'll try very hard.'

_'Would you say you're brave?'_

'No, not really,' Myrtle thought.  'I might not be the smartest or bravest girl but I'll try hard.'

Some people in the Great Hall complained about the time ahd their hunger.

'Please, just place me somewhere, anywhere,' Myrtle begged silently.  'I'm a nice girl.  I promise I'll try very hard no matter what and I won't cheat.  I'm an honest hard worker.'

_'Honesty, yes. Plenty of honesty and loyalty.  Well you may think that won't be much but that is more than enough for…'_

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Myrtle made a shout of surprise and jumped off the stool once Dumbledore removed the Sorting Hat from her head.  Now crying tears of joys, Myrtle broke for the Hufflepuff Table.  

Tom checked his watch again.  When would they get to the "R's?"  His patience was wearing thin.  Tom waited his whole life for this moment, always wondering where he belonged.  Tom looked around, waiting anxiously, finally…

"Riddle, Tom."

Tom swallowed, walked to the front and sat on the stool.  It fell slightly over his eyes and he heard the voice of the Hat hum thoughtfully in his ear.

'What? What?' Tom thought.  'What do you see?'

_'Lots of things,' _the Sorting Hat replied.  _'Isn't this interesting…after all these years, I've finally found you.  So much ambition and drive, thirst, hunger.  A hunger so deep it takes you over.'_

'How can you tell?" 

_'Why, it's right here in your head.  It's in your blood.  You've got everything he did.'_

'Who?'

'I'm amazed, truly amazed to find the heir of one of the four founders here.  You have all the amazing qualities of him—even the gift of Parseltongue. Why, there's no place better for you than to be in his house, no doubt about that.  You've got his blood coursing through your veins, young man.  I know where to put you--wouldn't he be proud to know you're here--that great wizard Salazar…'

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Wh-what?" Tom questioned, his eyes wide and didn't budge when the hat was taken from his head.  

"Hey, Riddle!" Alaric Malfoy called. "Over here!"

Tom blinked and walked dumfounded and shocked to the Slytherin Table.  He remembered the Hat's voice.  Was he playing him with all that founder heir stuff? Could Tom Riddle really be the heir of Salazar Slytherin?  How could it be?  He had Slytherin blood running in his veins?"

"I told you Slytherin was the best house," Alaric said.  "I knew you'd be in Slytherin. I just knew."

Tom's facial muscles seemed to move on their own into a big grin.  The Sorting Ceremony ended and Tom enjoyed his meal.  The food was scrumptious and he'd never seen so much of it in his life.  He could eat like a king in this place.  Tom was only here for a few hours and already; Tom was in love with this place called Hogwarts.

The Slytherin prefect led the house of Slytherins down the dungeons to their common room.  Tom's eyes couldn't keep up with the surroundings.  Tom knew as the prefect was explaining things, he knew that he'd want to be a prefect too. And why not?  Tom Riddle had Slytherin blood. He could be whatever he wanted to be.  Tom had the best wand from the wandshop sitting in his pocket, the blood from the best wizard of all time coursing in his veins and the drive to take him anywhere.  Tom was going to do it.  It was just like the advice Mr. Paten gave him when he dropped him off this morning.

_"_If you want something bad enough, you've got to be willing to do everything to get it."

That was exactly what Tom intended to do.

"Slytherin Common room," the prefect said, gesturing around the room.  "All right any questions?"

Tom raised his hand.  "Yeah, I have one.  When can you become a prefect?"

"Fifth year," he answered, hands on his hips.  "If you get a high enough score in your fourth year you can become one. In your seventh year they'll elect head boy and head girl."

"Thanks," Tom said, grinning.  He could become Head Boy.  He wanted it so bad he could almost taste it.

_--_

Days passed into weeks.  It was lonely for Sarah in the orphanage but she did not let herself miss Tom too much.  She wrote him when she could and tried to keep herself as busy as possible.  She missed him more when she had nothing to do.  Sarah hugged her doll all the time, wishing Tom would feel it.  Somehow, Sarah felt that Tom was going to come back a whole new person.  With heavy heart, hugging her doll, she looked out her window, wondering just where Hogwarts could be.

"Tom, please be careful out there," she said wishfully, "and don't change."

--

Little did Sarah know, Tom was changing.  Tom made it his goal to become the best in anything, get a high grade on every assignment in every class.  Tom wanted to learn everything and everything having to do with magic.  Now that he knew he had sltherin blood in him, Tom wanted to know everything about Salazar Slytherin.

On Halloween after lessons, Tom sat in the common room with all the infmation about Salazar Slytherin he could find.    He read that Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth, meaning he could communicate with snakes.  But this wasn't the only thing Salazar Slytherin could do.  Salazar Slytherin was quite talented in the Dark Arts, which he practiced in secret from the other founders.  There was something about Salazar Slytherin that came as a surprise to Tom Riddle.

Salazar Slytherin was in love with one of the founders, Helga Hufflepuff.  Centuries ago, when Salazar met Helga and founded Hogwarts with her and the others, everything else didn't seem so important to him.  She was a very talented witch in almost every art and her beauty was immeasurable.  Helga Hufflepuff had lustrous golden blond that had little braids coming from the sides of her head, connecting to a longer braid over her long hair.  Her eyes were as blue as the sky and her complexion was perfect.  But it wasn't her eyes or her hair or her talent Salazar Slytherin liked the most. It was her beautiful voice.  Salazar loved to hear her sing.  It took away all his bad thoughts and feelings in a flash every time, until a few years after founding Hogwarts, Salazar and Godric were having an agreement about the kinds of youngsters they brought to the school.   They rehashed this almost every single day and before every school year.

"Why do you have to be the one to choose, Godric?" Salazar demanded.  "Do I not have a say in who comes in our school?"

"We have talked about this before," Godric said coolly.  "If they show talent then I am willing to teach them."

"So you will let those without any magic in their blood enter our school?" Salazar questioned, his dark eyes flaring.  "And risk everything we worked for?  How do you know they will not tell everyone where Hogwarts is?"  
Rowena stepped beside Godric, her black wavy hair pulled up by the sides.  "Godric, I do not believe that.  We have voted on letting children from non-magical families coming to Hogwarts years ago.  They are just as good as anyone else."

"Do not be a fool!" Salazar shouted.  "I do not care how much talent they have, I believe they are unworthy to be in my school!"

"Your school?" Godric asked, scratching his auburn beard.  "Have you forgotten that we've founded Hogwarts _together?_"

"They are untrustworthy, Godric.  Someday these—Mudbloods—will tell everyone where to find Hogwarts!  It might not happen this year, but I know it will happen someday!"

"Salazar, what a cruel thing to say!" Helga cried.  "Even if what you say is true, do you think we cannot protect Hogwarts?"

"I am going to do everything in my power to keep the unworthy from walking in the halls of Hogwarts!" Salazar sneered.

"We have agreed to only let those from wizarding families come to your house, Salazar!" Godric snapped.  

"That is not good enough!" Salazar roared.  "I want rid the filth from Hogwarts and I will!"

"Filth?" Rowena asked, "Salazar, do not speak like that!  They are just children trying to find out where they belong in the world! I've seen their hard work, their diligence, their intelligence!  Some students without any magic in their lineage are better with a whole magical family tree!"

"You telling me that you think these—these children are _gifted?_" Salazar let out a derisive laugh.  

"Yes," Rowena said defiantly.  "I believe so."

"Salazar, no one from this school is a traitor," Godric said softly.

"No, just you," Salazar scowled.  "I knew you would be foolish enough to let the unworthy inside this school, Godric, so I did something to prepare Hogwarts."

"What are you talking about?" Helga asked.  "Have you set a trap?"

"A perfect trap," Salazar said, "when we first had this problem with who to let roam these halls, I built a chamber hidden deep underneath the school that only myself and my true heir will be able to open!  Inside this Chamber of Secrets lies a monster to rid the filth of this school."

"You bastard!" Godric snarled, rushing forward Salazar with his wand outstretched. "You liar!"

Salazar stepped back with a very cruel smile plastered on his face.

"Stop, stop!" Helga cried, rushing between the two wizards as Rowena pulled Godric back.  "Please, let's not fight.  Please!  We have lived in piece for twenty years.  Let's not fight!" She turned quickly to Salazar. "Salazar, you do not mean that, do you?  You have not really built a Chamber of Secrets with a monster, have you?"

"I have, Helga." Salazar said and looked at the others. "Go head—search the school—you shall never find it!"

"You are lying," Godric snapped. "Lying!"

"Godric, stop!" Rowena hissed, trying to keep Godric from attacking Salazar. "Just let him go."

"Very well," Godric said, "Salazar, you are to leave Hogwarts and never come back."

"No!" Helga gasped, whipping around to Godric.  "You cannot mean that, Godric.  Please, let us talk this over."

"We _have _talked this through, Helga," Salazar muttered, "but Godric here won't listen to reason.  He wants to let the unworthy in our school!"

"That is enough, Salazar!" Godric yelled. "Leave Hogwarts now!  This instant!  We can watch over Hogwarts on our own. We will not be needing you anymore!"

"Very well," said Salazar, stepping out of the staff room.  "I cannot stand to be in this school anymore as long as there will be Mudbloods in our school.  I am leaving and I am never coming back.  Be sure to warn the students when term starts.  The Chamber will open someday.  Might not be this term or the next, maybe not ten years from now, but someday, Godric, someday, it will open and all the unworthy will die!"  Salazar let out a mighty, wicked laugh and marched out of the room.  

Helga walked to the door and stopped at the doorway.  "Salazar, wait!"

Salazar disappeared around the corridor and Helga turned back to the others.  Godric still looked outraged but Rowena looked slightly relieved.

"Salazar just left," Helga said, her eyes brimming with tears.  "Are neither of you going to stop him?"

"Why should we?" Godric questioned.  "Let him go.  We do not need a murderer here."

"Salazar is no murderer!" Helga cried.  "If we talk…"

"We _have _talked about this, Helga," Rowena said tiredly, "For years.  Salazar will not listen."

"We have to stop him," Helga pleaded.  "You cannot just let him go…please?  Rowena?  Godric?"  she looked at their faces, her lip trembling.  

Neither of them said a word.  Helga burst into tears and shook her head.

"The Hogwarts Four has broken!" 

"Now, Helga, do not cry," Godric began but she turned away and ran out of the door.  If Goric and Rowena weren't going to help her then she'd just do it herself.  She found Godric walking out of the castle with a sack flung over his shoulder.

"Salazar!  No!  Do not go! Come back!" she cried.  "Please! Do not leave!  Salazar, wait!"

Hearing her cries, Salazar paused and looked over his shoulder.  "Helga, you cannot stop me from leaving."  He said sternly, but there was a hint of sadness his voice like he was proud and almost sorry he was leaving Hogwarts.  "I am going."

"No, please!" she flung her arms around him and sobbed.  "You cannot go! You cannot!  I need you here. We need you!"

"I cannot stay at Hogwarts," said Salazar softly, pushing her back.  "I am sorry."

"Come back inside and talk with us," she pleaded.  "We can work something out.  You have seen how the students from nonmagical familes work.  Please try and reconsider, Salazar.  It does not matter!"

"Helga, I have talked it over until I was blue in the face," Salazar muttered.  "I cannot talk anymore."

"You have not really built a chamber underneath the castle, Salazar," she said. "I know you have not!  We will search the school and see if it is real!"

"Search as long as you would like, Helga, but you will not find it," Salazar said, "only my true heir will.  I built the chamber with dark magic and it will be dark magic that will open it."

"Dark magic? You never told us!"

"Hogwarts will be fine without me," Salazar insisted.  "You can find another replacement."

"Replacment?" Helga demanded.  "We don't want a replacement, Salazar!"

"There are plenty of other wizards out there," said Salzar, "ones that have no problem teaching muggleborns. But I cannot do it anymore.  Get another person to teach my subject."

"Salazar, no," she shook her head.  "No!"

"Goodbye, Helga," Salazar kissed her forehead and turned around, trying to push her away.  "I am sorry."

She tugged on him and pleaded for him to stay.  Sinking to her knees, she watched Salzar leave the Hogwarts grounds forever.  

"Salazar! Salazar!"

--

"Riddle, wake up!" 

Someone was rousing him awake.

"Wake up, Riddle!  Riddle!"

"W-what?" Tom said sleepily.

"You're missing the Halloween Feast," Alaric said.  "You can read later."

"I was reading about Salazar Slytherin," Tom squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I must've fallen asleep.  Had the weirdest dream."

"We all know Slytherin was the best wizard in the world," Alaric laughed.  "Come on. Wait until you see the Enchanted Ceiling.  We have food at the Halloween Feast they don't' serve at other dinners!"

"All right, I'm coming," Tom yawned, rising to his feet and following Alaric out of the common room to the Great Hall, his dream still heavy on his mind.  What was it all about?  Did Salazar Slytherin really build a Chamber of Secrets and where was it?

**To Be Continued**


	6. Bad Omen

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 6

**Bad Omen**

_Disclaimer: I do not HP, but Sarah, all those other kids at the orphanage, Carrie Star and characters you would not see in the books are mine.  On another note, I don't know how far medical science was the year Tom was born and I don't know if they had heart monitors and things like that or not so I'm using heart monitors anyway, to add more drama to when Tom's mother died.  _

For Christmas Holiday, Tom stayed at Hogwarts and learned all he could.  Poor young Sarah did not understand why he didn't come to visit her for Christmas but tried not to let it bother her.  'He probably just made a lot of new friends,' she told herself quietly.  A new girl named Elle came to live in the orphanage and became good friends with Sarah.  Some young orphans were adopted, more where brought in and all these changes kept Sarah busy but her heart still ached for Tom.  What was he doing over there in that magic school?  Was he ever to busy to think of her?

"Oh Tom," she said.  "Please...don't forget me while you're there."

--

Tom learned a lot at Hogwarts and worked hard, just like Mr. Paten told him.  All the students in his house respected him for being the heir of Slytherin.  The girls loved him—the boys envied him.  Tom simply loved this. Since hearing the myth about the Chamber of Secrets, he tried finding everything he could on it and searched for the entrance.

It was the last week of Christmas Holiday and Tom took the opportunity to have a look around.  A lot of students went home for the holidays and the halls were more deserted. While searching the castle, he found a mirror inside a room.  As he got closer to the mirror, looking at his reflection, it changed.  His dark brown eyes were the same in the mirror but then a lady with long straight and silky blond hair was looking back at him wearing dark green robes, a silver necklace with a snake dangling from the chain, and holding a wand.  Tom tilted his head.   

"Mother?"

The woman nodded, smiled and reached through the mirror to smooth Tom's hair and touch his face.  Tom closed his eyes and smiled.  Tom stayed at the mirror of Erised for what seemed like an eternity and he forgot about the Chamber of Secrets.  

--

"I found something," Tom said to Alaric when he returned to the Slytherin room that day.

"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets?" Alaric inquired hopefully. "You found it?"

"No," Tom replied.  "I found a mirror.  I saw my mother in it."

"You saw your mother in a mirror?" He asked.  "What kind of mirror was it?"

"It shows you things," Tom explained.  "There was something written around it _Erised stra erhru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._"

Alaric looked at Tom as if he just went mad.  "What the hell did you just say?"

"It was another language," Tom said irritably.  "Latin probably."

"Sounds like you found the Mirror of Erised, Tom," Olive said, leaning toward him.  "It shows you your innermost desires when you look into it.  My father found it when he went here. It showed himself as Head Boy.  What did it show you, Tom?"

"It showed me my mother," Tom said and Olive sighed.

"Oh, that's so nice…" she said.

"Your mother?" Alaric asked.  "Why didn't it show you the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Shut up, Alaric!" Olive shouted.  "He will find it someday.  Tom never knew his mother and seeing her was a desire stronger than the Chamber of Secrets.  That's really sweet, Tom.  What did she look like?"

"She had my eyes," Tom replied.  "And blond hair, tall, thin…real pretty."

"That's really nice," Olive smiled.  "What was your mother's name?"

"I'm not sure," he answered with a shrug.  "They never told me.  She died right after she gave me my name…my no good muggle father's name…"

"I wonder why she gave you his name," Olive said.  

"She was dying," Tom said, "she knew she was about to die…my mother didn't know what to name me."

"Maybe we can find out what her name is," Olive suggested. "I'm sure if she was your mother…she had to be really popular."

Alaric groaned and rolled his eyes.  "How do we know that?"

"That's where he got the blood of Slytherin," Olive snapped. "Whoever Tom's mother was…she had Slytherin blood!"

Tom couldn't take this.  He stood up.  "I'm leaving."

"Tom, where are you going?" Olive asked.  "Want me to go with you?"

"No," Tom replied.  "I need to be alone."

"But…"

Before she could get another word out, Tom left the Slytherin Common Room.  Olive sighed and narrowed her eyes at Alaric.

"What?" Alaric demanded.

"All you care about is finding the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!" she hissed.

"Well, if _I _was the heir of Slytherin," Alaric muttered, "I would put in more of an effort.  You can't even tell he's a real Slytherin."

"Of course Tom's a real Slytherin," Olive said, "He's the _heir _of Slytherin.  He will find the Chamber of Secrets someday. I know Tom will. It will only be a matter of time.  Maybe if he learns more about his mother, he'll find a way to find the Chamber of Secrets! Perhaps she left him clues!  Would you give him a chance?  The heir of Slytherin has lived in a muggle orphanage for all his life.  Not everyone has the pleasure of living in a mansion, you know!"  She stormed out of the dormitory to try and find Tom.

As Tom was walking down the halls, he heard a voice call to him.  _"Tom, over here…Tom…_"

"Who said that?" Tom inquired.

He heard the voice again.  It sounded like a woman's voice coming from the trophy room.  Curious, Tom followed it and answered it back.

"Hello, anyone in here?" Tom asked, looking around the trophy room.

_"This way, Tom…here…"_

The trophy room was empty but he could've sworn he heard a voice coming from it. He walked around, looking at the different awards.  There was a plaque on the wall the read _Inner Eye Award _with the engraving of eye underneath the words.  One of the names flashed as the voice spoke.  _Carrie Star._

_"Tom…Tom…"_

 "Inner Eye Award?" Tom mumbled, touching the flashing name.  The voice got louder as he reached it and then he saw something, heard something that happened when his mother was a student here.

--

"Carrie Star," voiced the professor, standing over the opening of the trap door.  

Carrie took a deep breath, climbed the ladder and waited by the door as the professor walked to the table to begin the reading.  Professor Augury was a middle aged witch with curly copper red hair, wearing a bandana around her head, an olive complexion, deep green eyes, long fingernails and wore heavy jewelry.  She sat in her great velvet chair, circling her hands around the glowing orb in front of here.

"Sit, child," Professor Augury murmured.  "We will begin your final for this term and find out if you have the makings of a seer.

Third year Carrie walked to the table and took the seat opposite from the professor.  She swallowed and grasped her hands under the table, feeling nervous.  

"Tell me, dear girl," Professor Augury said, "What do you see in the crystal ball?"

Carrie leaned forward and focused on the orb.  "Nothing…nothing…"

"Focus, Carrie," Augury urged.  "There _is _something in the crystal ball."

She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to free her mind, giving in to the clairvoyant vibrations in the room.

"It may take a while," Augury said, "Give in…let your inner eye see through…"

'If I've got an inner eye,' Carrie thought, her eyes closed tight, 'then it's time for me to use it.  I must have one _somewhere…' _Searching deep within herself and taking in a breath, Carrie opened her eyes again, leaned forward and reached to the orb and waited to see something.  

"Fog," Carrie said.  "Fire…water and earth…trees, many trees…a forest."

"Hmm?" Augury looked at her pupil and at the orb.  "A forest?"

Carrie looked deeper into the orb.  Indeed, she saw many of these things.  But within them…

"A man.  He's old," she added, "in robes. He's a wizard.  But his robes aren't like ours. They're ancient, medieval.  I see him on a horse, riding away from…from here, Hogwarts.  He looks angry, and also sad."

"Who? Who do you see?"

"He's, one of the founders," Carrie continued, "It's Salazar Slytherin, leaving Hogwarts.  He's practicing the Dark Arts.  Wait...he's gone…I don't see him in the crystal ball anymore"

"Very good, I saw a man too," Professor Augury said.

"Wait!" Carrie gasped.  "I just saw the past, Professor. I have not yet seen the future. My future."  She stared closer in the globe.  "I see…a baby boy."

"Oh yes."

"He has my eyes," Carrie said, "He's…my son…something special about this boy."

"I too see a baby," agreed Professor Augury.

"I see him growing into a young man," said Carrie.  "He's very handsome, intelligent.  I see him coming to Hogwarts and…"

Carrie saw something in the crystal ball that scared her half to death.  She saw him doing dark arts, opening the legendary Chamber of Secrets and setting a monster on the students, killing one of them.  The boy showed no remorse.  He enjoyed it all.  She saw him go through what no mother's child should. The once handsome and bright boy suddenly turned ugly.   He became a bully, a killer, and a _monster.  _ She watched him torture and kill innocent lives, laughing, laughing.  She now could hear the awful, merciless laughter ringing in her ears.  Merging with the monster's face was symbol, a very dark and creepy symbol of a skull and a snake.  Carrie gasped, closed her eyes and clamped her hands over her ears.

"What did you just see, Carrie?" Augury inquired eagerly.  "What did you see from your future?"

"Nothing, Professor," Carrie lied.

"What happened to the boy?"

"He became…a wizard. A great wizard."

Augury's eyes started to roll around.  Carrie looked on in shock.

"Professor? What's the matter?"

Augury opened her mouth to speak but it was not her usual soft voice. It was harsh and wicked sounding.  "You will be the mother of the Heir of Slytherin."

"What?" Carrie gasped.

"The Heir of Slytherin will do many great and terrible things.  Many will fear to speak his name.  He will start in his first year of Hogwarts.  The Heir of Slytherin will open the Chamber of Secrets and let loose the terror within.  This will be just the beginning of his exertion.  The Heir of Slytherin will not stop until he has the whole world under his ugly thumb.  Beware the Heir of Slytherin!"  Augury's eyes closed, her head fell on her chest and Carrie seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.

"P-Professor?" she stammered, walking over to her and shaking her shoulder.  "Professor Augury, are you all right? Did you just make a prediction?"

Professor Augury looked up.  "Sorry, Carrie.  Where were we?"

"You just said…that I would be the mother to the Heir of Slytherin," Carrie answered.

Professor Augury chuckled.   "I do not remember saying anything but a sort."

"But you did, Professor," Carrie insisted.  "You were talking, but it wasn't your voice."

"Well done on your crystal ball reading, Carrie," said Professor Augury.  "You've done excellent work in divination class. You are on your way to becoming an excellent seer!"

"Great," Carrie whispered.  "I'm thrilled."

--

"Tom?" 

A hand touched Tom's shoulder and he flinched.  "What?"

"Tom, are you all right?" Olive asked.

Tom blinked and rubbed his head.  "I think so."

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard a voice," he replied.  "My mother was speaking to me."  He pointed at her name again.  "I think my mother was Carrie Star."

Olive took a look at the name, back at Tom and gasped. "Tom, your mother was Carrie Star?"

"I believe so," Tom answered. "It was flashing when I came to it.  Must be a way for my mom to reach me."

Olive looked impressed.  "Carrie Star was the best student seer at Hogwarts!  My parents went to school with her—good friends with my mother—she told everyone fortunes and they were always right!"

"Really?"

"Yes, Tom," Olive nodded.  "She could've been the next divination teacher.  Carrie Star was _that _good!  She could've been a prefect!"

"She was in Slytherin, right?"

"Of course," Olive said.  "We know you're the Heir of Slytherin, Tom…that's where you got your Slytherin blood from…but no one knew that Carrie Star had Slytherin blood in her!"

Tom scratched his head.  "When I touched her name, I—I _saw _something."

"What?"

"I think it was my mother's past," Tom answered. "When she went to Hogwarts.  A divination lesson."

"Amazing, Tom," Olive grinned.  "You should take Divination when we begin third year.  I bet you'll get an Inner Eye award too!"

Tom shrugged, "maybe I will."

"Let's get back to the common room, Tom," Olive said.  "Wait until everyone knows!"

She grabbed Tom's hand and took him out of the trophy room and down to the common room to give everyone the news.

"Tom found out who his mother was!" she declared.  "It was Carrie Star!"

"What?" Alaric sounded with everyone else in the room. He walked up to Tom.  "My father really fancied Carrie Star.  He thought she was the prettiest pureblooded witch in the school, if not Slytherin House!"  He closed his eyes in a wince as if he'd been punched in the stomach and shook his head. "We could've been _brothers, _Tom Riddle!  Why ever did she marry a no good muggle when she could've had my father?  If she really was such a good seer, then she _must've _known this father of yours would leave her!"

Tom looked confused and shook his head.  "I wish I knew."

--

All the Slytherins' respect and envy increased once they knew who Tom's mother really was.  Students from other houses were thrown and approached him in the halls sometimes and asked if they could have their fortune told.  He always replied, "I see that you're late for class," so that he could enjoy the shocked look on their face and watch them run away.

Tom wondered if he had any ability to see in the future too. He often had bad dreams when he lived at the orphanage and wake up in a cold sweat. On all of his birthdays an hour after midnight, fall out of his bed every time.  The other boys laughed at him when he did this and said he was going mad when Tom kept insisting he heard a woman scream.  He always asked Mrs. Crabtree and Miss Smith were all right after he heard the screaming woman but Mrs. Crabtree was always in good spirits and Miss Smith was quiet all the time.  Tom thought that the screaming woman was from a dream but it seemed so real.  Often before that awful dream he had, he heard the same woman weeping. Could it be his mother mourning his father when he left her?

In the middle of the night on Tom's twelfth birthday, up in the boy's dormitory, he was having the same dreaming of his mother.  This time it was more intense and lasted longer than ever before He could her face this time and he was never able to do so before.  At the orphanage, he just heard her screaming on a bed, bodies standing around her.  This time, Tom saw more than he wished to imagine.  Most boys loved their birthdays but for Tom, he was a different story.

--

"I-I will die," Carrie stammered, sweat beading across her forehead.

"No you won't, Carrie," said the doctor.  

A nurse held Carrie's hand and dabbed her face while encouraging her to breathe.  

"I am going to die," Carrie said.

"Don't talk like that, Carrie."  The nurse dabbing Carrie's forehead said softly.  "Lord knows the pain is terrible.  Some women have died in childbirth but they were already sick to begin with.  You are in excellent physical health, Carrie."

"You're wrong," Carrie insisted.  "I will die once my child is born.  I am going to leave this world while bringing him into it!  I've always known I will die!"

"Poor dear."

"You're ready, Carrie.  The baby's coming.  Get ready to push."

Carrie was screaming and sobbing. The pain was too much.   It wasn't just the physical pain of giving birth, but she was afraid for her baby.  She knew what was going to happen to him.  Carrie's fragile heart was breaking.  Nevertheless, she used what strength she had left to deliver her son, knowing what kind of life he would have.  Carrie gave one last final scream, one hard final push and the baby came into the world.  

"It's a boy, Carrie," said the doctor as he cleaned him up.

"I already knew," Carrie mumbled with a weak smile as they handed the wet boy to her in a blanket.  "Hello, Tom."

"You already have a name for him, miss?" asked a nurse.

"I always knew what I was going to name him," Carrie answered. "Tom after his father—Marvolo after his grandfather.  My son—Tom Marvolo Riddle."  Carrie's eyes rolled and she started shouting.  "God save my son! Tom Marvolo Riddle! Heir of Slytherin!"

"What, Carrie?" asked a nurse?

Carrie's shouts turned into incoherent hisses.  Parseltongue. 

"What is she saying?"

"She's gone mad!"

The doctor and nurses stood watching Carrie, scared out of their minds.  One nurse took Tom out of her arms and put the newborn child away.  

"Stop, Carrie! Stop!"

Carrie then began having a coughing fit, blood came out of her mouth and nose and she and went into convulsions.  Carrie hit the table next to her, bringing the lamp to the floor and a small little with her name on it. The lights in the room flickered on and off.

"Hold her—I'll give her an injection!"

"She's convulsing, doctor!" screamed the nurse as she tried to keep her from hitting anything else. "I can't keep a hold!"

 Carrie's limbs and headed shook violently and threw both nurses away from her. One nurse was knocked out cold with a bloody nose. The other nurse tried to get up and kept her eyes on the heart monitor. The line was going crazy.  Carrie jerked so violently she came off the bed and the nurse took her head as other nurses went to get help.

"I've never seen this before," said the doctor.  "Don't worry Carrie…"

Carrie's jerking legs tripped the doctor and he dropped the syringe.  Carrie's seizures suddenly stopped.  The heart line on the heart monitor flattened and a long and loud buzz sounded. Then sparks flew from the machine, catching on fire.  The lights went out completely, bulbs bursting and the windows breaking.   Carrie went into arrest and for a moment, all the staff seemed too scared to act.  The doctor grabbed the fire extinguisher and used it on the blazing heart monitor.  It was dark inside the room.__

"Flat line!" shouted a nurse.  "Cold blue! Cold blue!"

They crowded around Carrie's still body and began CPR. But it was no good.  With two doctors, five nurses and a medic, it was not enough to save Carrie Star Riddle.  The mother of the Heir of Slytherin died just moments after the boy was born.

"She's gone," said the doctor after giving her CPR.

"She was right," whispered a nurse, shivering.  "Carrie kept saying she was going to die after she gave birth.  I thought she was afraid because of the pain.  Carrie was in excellent health for a pregnant woman when she came here.  I never would've thought she'd die."

"Carrie told me she'd die in child birth too," said a second witch.  "Because of a broken heart after her husband left her."

"I don't understand, though…why'd he leave her?  What kind of man would leave his wife and unborn child?"

"I'm never coming into this delivery room again," said the doctor.  
"I have to agree with you on that one.  Strangest thing ever.  WE ought to lock the room up. I bet it's haunted or bewitched."

After locking the door to Carrie's deathbed, they took her body to the morgue and the now orphaned child to the nursery.  Poor Tom Marvolo Riddle became an orphan and all he had was a name.

--

The boy's quiet dormitory suddenly became noisy.  A boy was screaming and thrashing in his sleep.  Then there was a loud and heavy thud. Lights turned on.  Sleepy, angry boys spoke.

"What's that noise?"

"Crabbe, what did you eat for dinner?"

The other boys looked over at an empty bed, where Tom was supposed to be.

"Tom, where'd you go?"

"Oi! Riddle!"

The boys got up and went to his bed but eh wasn't' there. He was next to it, on the floor, shaking and screaming.

"Which one of you put the Crucaitus Curse on my brother?" Alaric demanded, looking around the room.

"The what Curse?" Crabbe questioned stupidly.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" asked Avery.  "Riddle's not your brother!"

"Well, he could've been!" Malfoy spat. "He _should _have been!  Maybe somebody poisoned him!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" the other first year, Avery said as he bent down to Tom's body.  "No one cursed or poisoned Riddle."

"What's the matter with him then?" Malfoy demanded. "What should we do?"

Tom continued screaming and convulsing.  He hit his arm against the table, scratching it.  He had bruised his back from when he fell so hard on the ground.  

"Hold his down before he makes something fall on him!" Malfoy ordered Crabbe and Goyle.

Crabbe took one side of Tom as Goyle took the other.  As strong as they were, holding Tom still was a difficult task.  Tom's screams reached the rest of the Slytherin dormitories and those who had been sleeping walked in the first years' dormitory room.

"What's going on here?" asked the Slytherin prefect.  "I heard screaming."

"Tom screamed," replied Avery.  "I think he had a nightmare."

The prefect walked to Tom, bent over and slapped his face.  "Tom?  Wake up.  You're having a nightmare."

But Tom kept screaming and thrashing around.

"Someone get the nurse!" the prefect shouted.  "Hurry!"

--

That afternoon, Tom woke up and found himself in the hospital wing.  His friends were crowded around him.  Olive was crying in her hands.  There were presents on the table at the foot of his bed.

"He's up!" Alaric gasped.  "All right there, Riddle?"

"What happened?" Tom asked weakly.  "What am I doing in the hospital wing?"

"You were having some kind of fit in the middle of the night," Wilson Avery replied.  "Scared the hell out of us."

"I think you had a nightmare," said Perry Parkinson. "Must've been a bad one. You were screaming and shaking. Fell out of your bed on the floor.  Hit your head."

Tom pushed himself up and put a hand to his head, feeling a bandage.  "A nightmare?"

"Mind telling us what it was, Tom?" Olive asked through her tears.

"Just the same dream, but it was different," Tom said.  "What day is it?"

"Your birthday, Tom."  Perry answered, smiling. "Have you forgotten?"

"I have the same stupid dream every birthday, but this was the worse I've ever seen it." Tom explained. "it was more clear.  More real.  Like I was really there.  Well, I was there!"

"Tom, what are you talking about?"

"I dreamed about the day I was born," Tom muttered.  "About my mother dying after giving birth to me.  Those damn muggles didn't help her right away.  They had to wait until her heart stopped beating until they did something!"

"It's all right, Tom," said Perry. "Just a dream."

"Yeah," said Wilson.  "Here, open your presents.  It'll make you feel better." 

"You can open mine first."  Alaric grinned.

"I don't want it," Tom muttered.

"Oh, of course you do," Alaric insisted.  He picked up his present, handed it to Tom but Tom knocked it out of his hands. Olive screamed and backed away.

"I don't want it!" Tom repeated with a snarl.

"But it's the best that money can buy," Alaric insisted.

"I told you I don't want it!"

"You don't even know what's in it."

"I don't care!" Tom hissed.  "I don't want _any_ presents!"

"It's your birthday, you idiot," Alaric muttered.

Tom got up and pushed all of the presents off the table to the floor.  "Didn't you hear me? I don't want the presents.  I don't give a damn how good they are!  I don't' want them!"

"Why not?"

"I don't deserve the presents.  I never should've had a birthday."

"Tom, don't say that!" Olive cried.

"If I wasn't born then my mother would still be alive and I wouldn't have lived as an orphan!" Tom yelled.  "Now get out!  I don't need your presents.  I don't need you.  I don't need anybody! Get out! Get out! All of you!"

They stared at Tom for a bit and began to leave, muttering, "Happy Birthday, Tom."

Once they went out of the hospital wing, Tom sunk weakened on the bed and lay down on his side.  He just cast out the only friends he ever had out the door.

**To Be Continued**


	7. Changes

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 7

**Changes**

** **

After thinking about how he acted earlier, Tom realized that the dream was some kind of message from his mother.He just thrown out the only friends he ever had.His painful dream was no excuse for that.Something was changing in Tom Riddle.He felt more at home in the walls of Hogwarts than at the orphanage.In a couple of months, he'd have to go back to that place again. He hated it there.

Tom took the time to open the presents from his friends alone in the Hospital Wing.After finding what generous gifts they got him, he brought the treasures back to the Slytherin Common Room.

"I just want to apologize for the way I acted earlier," he began."I'm sorry.I've had a lot on my mind lately."

"That's okay, Tom," said Olive.

"Thanks for the presents," he continued."I never had a real birthday before."

"Now you're going to," Alaric said ostentatiously."Better than at that orphanage. Who'd ever want to live there?"

--

The rest of term went way too fast for Tom Riddle.His time at Hogwarts was better than all his years at the orphanage.He got full marks on all his final exams and scored points for his house.It wasn't enough to win the House Cup but they were really close and came in second place.Gryffindor had won the House Cup again.He looked over at the Gryffindor table to where his rival Jacob Potter was sitting.Jacob Potter had dirty blond hair that had a mind of its own and sterling blue eyes, a witch mother and muggle father who thought the world of him and a great handful of friends.Tom hated the fact that Jacob's father was a muggle just like Tom's was, but did Jacob's father, Jason leave Jacob's mother, Rebecca?Absolutely not.Tom heard Jacob talking about himself to other students.

"My mother was a good witch and everything but she always had a fascination for muggles," Jacob said."So she married one.Of course, she told my father everything about herself before he even had a chance to pop the question.They were made for each other.My father's a doctor and he thinks magic is wonderful.Sometimes he even asks my Mum for help in the operation room!"

Tom would do anything to hear his father say he loved magic.

Tom didn't like him since the first potion lesson with both Slytherin and Gryffindor house.When the Potions teacher, Professor LeStrange, was favoring the Slytherins a bit too much and criticizing the Gryffindors for no reason at all, Jacob Potter opened his big mouth and shouted, "What kind of teacher _are _you?"  
Tom could still remember the first year Gryffindors grinning and nodding, the other Slytherins gasping and Professor LeStrange having a very shocked expression on his face.No one every talked back to a teacher before.Tom might have been the Heir of Slytherin, but Jacob Potter, on the other hand, had something Tom Riddle would never have._Courage._

When Tom screamed at night and shaking with terror from his horrible nightmares down in the cold dungeons, Jacob Potter was sleeping fast asleep in the comfortable dorms of the Gryffindor tower.Jacob Potter was not afraid of the dark forest or any of the creatures in it, when Tom Riddle was too afraid to anywhere near the place.Tom Riddle was scared to death of the Transfiguration teacher, Albus Dumbledore but Jacob Potter admired him as if he were his great grandfather or something.In short, Jacob Potter was everything Tom wasn't, but at the same time, wished he could be.Tom would switch places with Jacob in a heartbeat, just so he could be in a loving family.It did help, however, that he wasn't the only person in the school who had a problem with Jacob Potter.Alaric Malfoy didn't like him much either or anyone else from Gryffindor House.Unless the person was a Slytherin with magic roots that went more than five generations and Galleons up to their ears, he or she was not worth his time.

Tom growled at the red and gold decorations in the Great Hall.The food didn't look so good now and he chose not to eat.Tom was going to work damn hard not to let Gryffindor beat Slytherin again.He'll do whatever it takes to get Slytherin House to win the House Cup every year.He did not care if he had to cheat, lie, steal or even worse, kill to be the best student Hogwarts ever had, Tom was going to do it.Tom was going to show his true colors and it did not matter to him what it did to everyone else in the school.In his opinion, half of them didn't even belong here, the _muggleborn _half.

--

Tom handed his trunk and owl cage to the man by the baggage cart, took one last look at the place he really thought as home, sighed and headed to sit with Alaric in one of the compartments.Tom certainly was not looking forward going back to that stupid orphanage for three, long painful months.Tom stared at the window as Alaric talked about how he was so relieved about leaving the school.

"Can you believe how much homework they gave us?" Alaric demanded."Especially that Dumbledore.How are we supposed to do an essay on transforming toothpicks into matches if we're not even allowed to _do _magic away from school?I keep wishing they'd change that rule.I'm glad I'm going back home so I can sleep when I want, eat what I want…Hogwarts is okay, but it can make you crazy after a while!"

Tom groaned and turned to Alaric."I'm sorry I don't agree with you, Alaric.But not everyone lives in a manor."

"Oh," Alaric said."I forget, you have to go back to the orphanage."

Tom nodded."There are a couple of guys there that like to pick on me.They used to be my friends until all my magic powers started to show through."

"If we were allowed to do magic away from school," Alaric began, "then you should curse them.Or tell them about Crabbe and Goyle."

"Yeah."

"I know," Alaric grinned, "Why don't you come to my family's manor this summer?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. You'll love it there, Tom," Alaric said excitedly, "our manor is _huge_!We've got six house elves, stables, a private Quidditch field, and under our study we have a lot of cool Dark Arts stuff.It's definitely better than that orphanage you go to."

"Will I be sharing your room?" Tom inquired.

Alaric laughed as if he were insulted and tickled at the same time."Sharing _my _room? No, Tom. I know you're probably sick of sleeping in the same room with other boys.I know I would be—sleeping in the dorm with Crabbe, and Goyle, hearing them snore—I was tempted to go in the common room and sleep on the _couch!"_

"I think you _did _do that a couple of times," Tom said ponderingly.

"That's, right, I did," said Alaric."They got pretty bad.Oh, right…you won't have to share my room with me, Tom.It's big enough for the two of us, but after sleeping with so many people in the same room for 12 years, you'll be wanting your space."

"Thanks," Tom breathed.

"And you won't just be having your own _room, _Tom," Alaric grinned. "You can have your own _wing! _We'll assign you a house elf to do all your work for you.You'll have your own bed and bathroom.Breakfast in bed if you want it…"

Tom couldn't help grinning."When can I come?"

"I'll talk to my parents as soon I get home," he replied. "My uncle Fredrick will be picking me up."

"Wow," said Tom."Can't wait."

The rest of the train ride was much more pleasant as Alaric went on explaining about his manor and how excited he was to have Tom stay. Tom followed Alaric out with his belongings and Tom waved goodbye to his other friends as he saw them with their families. Tom stopped dead when he saw Jacob Potter in the arms of his muggle father, witch mother looking on with a smile.Mrs. Potter had curly sandy brown hair just like Jacob's and warm honey eyes.Jacob had his father's sterling blue eyes and dark brown hair, styled like Jacob's.

"Proud of you, son," said Jacob's father."Why don't you show me a thing or two when we get home?"

"I'm not aloud to do magic outside of school, dad," said Jacob with a smile.He caught Tom staring at him. "Hello, Tom."

Tom didn't reply and he didn't have to for Alaric was pulling him away."I think my uncle's outside waiting for me. I'll introduce you to him."

"Thanks," said Tom, following Alaric outside to where his uncle was waiting for him, holding a glove as a portkey.

"Uncle Fredrick, this is Tom Riddle," Alaric introduced.

"Pleasure," said Alaric's uncle. "Alaric, the portkey is about ready.We have to go where muggles don't notice us leave."

Before Tom asked, Alaric told him what a portkey and followed his uncle around the corner just as he saw Mr. Paten bring the team up.

"Hello, Tom," said Mr. Paten."I haven't kept you waiting long, have I?"

"No sir," Tom answered.

"Well, then, we'd better get going."Mr. Paten smiled."I know a little girl who's been waiting to see you!"

Tom smiled back and jumped up on the carriage next to Mr. Paten.He had almost forgotten all about little Sarah.It was the only thing worth coming back to the orphanage.

Sarah helped getting the orphanage in shape to surprise Tom.She planted new flowers in the flowerbeds, cleaned the floors and windows and after she did all that, she hurried upstairs to get washed up.

She was so excited now that Tom was coming back.Now it would be just like old times.While pulling on her best dress, she heard Tom come in with Mr. Paten.Miss Smith was welcoming him back.Sarah gasped happily and ran down the stairs to see Tom standing at the foot of the stairs with Miss Smith, telling her how he enjoyed himself at school.

"Tom!" Sarah cried joyfully, hopping down the steps."You're back!"

Hearing Sarah's sweet and happy voice, Tom turned and smiled. "Hi, Sarah."

Sarah laughed and jumped in Tom's arms, almost knocking him to the floor. Tom chuckled and pulled her up.

"I've missed you, Tom," said Sarah."Did you have fun at the magic school? Tell me everything!"

"Sure," Tom said, walking up with her. "I had a lot of fun…wow…the orphanage sure looks nice."

"Yeah," Sarah grinned, "I wanted to surprise you!"

"Well, I'm surprised."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You mean it?"

"I mean it."

"Oh, Tom!"

Regardless of the changes in Tom's heart, he still showed doting kindness to Sarah and told her about the fun things about Hogwarts while holding her in his lap.Bobby and Pete still picked on him but Tom knew how to threaten them with a tongue-tying curse, even though he could not do it.It didn't matter though, because in the second week of July, Alaric's pedigreed eagle owl came to Tom with a letter.

"Maybe Alaric got his parents to say I could come over!" Tom said excitedly, opening the letter and reading it with interest.

_Tom,_

_Sorry I'm writing you so late.My father was not at the mansion when I got home.He had some kind of business to take care of and he didn't return until a week after school let out and he was still pretty busy about that.My father is a school governor.I really don't understand how his job works._

_But I asked my mother about when as soon as I came back home and she said it was all right with her as long as it was all right with my father.My parents don't like letting people we don't know stay at the mansion but when I told my father who your mother was he gave me permission to let you stay at our manor for the rest of the summer! He has even agreed into taking you to Diagon Alley with us. _

_My dad and I will come for you this Friday morning.See you then._

_Alaric_

Grinning, hand shaking with excitement, Tom grabbed another piece of parchment and wrote the reply.

_Alaric,_

_That's great!The sooner the better.I can't wait to see your mansion.I've been bragging to Bobby and Pete about it already._

_See you Friday._

_Tom_

Tom was still grinning even when he tied the letter to the owl's leg and sent it off with his reply. He couldn't wait until this Friday.Now being in the orphanage after his first year in Hogwarts was more difficult than when he left.Tom missed the wizard world so much he thought he was going to die.

--

"Where do you think _you're _going, Riddle?" Bobby demanded as he saw Tom, fully dressed, gather all of his stuff three hours before dawn.

"I'm going to stay in a mansion for the rest of the summer," Tom bragged, steering his trunk to the door.

A mansion?"

"That's right," he said."My friend Alaric is _very _wealthy.Wizards don't just do magic, you know…they have _careers._"

"Bull."

"It's true," Tom insisted."And they don't like muggles much so I should wait outside for them or Mr. Malfoy might put a nasty hex on you and you don't want that, do you, Bobby?"Grinning Tom walked outside on the porch and waited for Alaric.He wondered how they were going to get here.Alaric didn't mention floo powder or a portkey.In fact, Alaric didn't mention _how _he was coming.Perhaps Alaric was too excited to tell him and Tom was too thrilled to even ask.Then right in front of him, a stagecoach without horses appeared right in front of Tom.The door opened and Alaric jumped out of the stagecoach.

"Hi Tom," Alaric grinned."Father, this is Tom."

"Hello, sir," said Tom.

"So…you're Carrie's son," said Alaric's father.

"Yeah," Tom replied."Carrie Star was my mother."

"Come on, Tom," Alaric urged, "you can put your stuff in here."

He opened a compartment to hold all of Tom's belongings and he hopped inside with Alaric and his father.Alaric closed the door and his father tapped his wand on the ceiling and muttered, _"Home."_

The stagecoach started to rumble, spin and before Tom could ask what was going on, they landed in a total different area.Grinning at the boy he wished were his brother, Alaric put his hand on the doorknob and pushed it down to open the door.

"Tom, welcome to Malfoy Manor," he said and opening the door and jumping out on lush green grass, holding his hand out behind him to show off his property.

"Wow!" Tom exclaimed, pulling himself out of the stagecoach."This is beautiful!Everything is so _green!_"

"Wait until you get inside," Alaric's father smiled, walking to the gate.

Tom made a double look. They were just _outside _Malfoy Mansion's gigantic stonewall.A couple of house elves were hurrying out of the gate to greet their master.

"Master, you is returned!"

"Bring the coach to the stables," Alaric's father ordered, "and take my our guest's belongings to his wing."

"Yes, master."

"And be quick about it!"

Tom felt pretty sorry for the small little creatures as Alaric's father looked as if he were going to kick them through the gate. Tom followed Alaric inside the gate and gasped.It was even better inside the wall.Just like Alaric said, there were stables, a private Quidditch field and an orchard of fruit trees and in the middle of the square was the Malfoy Manor.It was about three stories high and twice that much wide.If it looked so big on the outside, Tom could only imagine what it was once he set foot inside of it. Alaric gave him a tour of the grounds and Mr. Malfoy left the boys alone, to make sure the slaves did their jobs right, no doubt.

Alaric showed Tom the stables where a dozen horses were standing, and eating. As Alaric talked about how long they had the horses, their breeds and everything, Tom was opening each gate to pet the horse and brush their hair.

"What're you doing, Tom?" Alaric demanded."The _house elves _are supposed to do the grooming."

"It's okay.I love grooming horses.We have stables at the orphanage," Tom explained, "two horses and a carriage.That's all we've got for transportation.They're Paten's…sometimes I help him with them and when the teasing from Bobby gets to be too much, I'll just go out for a ride."

"I wonder what you're like on a broomstick," said Alaric.

"Don't you remember what happened at our first flying lesson?" Tom inquired."I fell right of the end when I straddled it…most embarrassing moment of my life."

"The school brooms are no good," Alaric said."That's what it was. You just need a good broom. We've got the best. Comet 140's.We can have a broomstick race while you're here."

"Sure," Tom smiled. He looked at the far end of the stables where one of the horses was laying on its side asleep. "What's wrong with that horse over there?" 

"What?" Alaric turned to the sleeping horse."Oh, that's Black Runner.He's kind of wild.My father's trying to break him but he's not having much luck. So we keep him asleep. Hey, don't go near him, Riddle!He'll kick you into next week!"

Alaric grabbed for Tom's arm but Tom continued walking to the tied up black stallion."So tht's why you keep him tied up?"

"Yeah, or he'll knock the door down."

"I can break him for you," Tom said.

"You crazy?" Alaric demanded."He's wild…you can't break him.We've had Black Runner for years.We're going to sell him someday if we can't break him."

"I'm serious, Alaric," Tom insisted, "I can break horses.I've worked with them all the time at the orphanage with Mr. Paten.I know a lot about horses."

"You think you can break Black Runner?" Alaric asked, grinning as he leaned against a post.

"Well, I can try," Tom said."I've worked with wild ones before…"

Black Runner woke up, startled and tried to buck the door down, stood up on its hind legs, neighing angrily.

"Watch out!" Alaric shouted, pulling Tom away."See? I told you.Black Runner is wild.You won't be able ot break him, Tom.But we've got other good stallions here you can ride."

"He doesn't like being tied up," Tom said, watching Black Runner tug from the post."You need to put him in a place where can run around and work off his energy."

"Are you crazy?" Alaric demanded. "Leave him run amok inside our wall? He'll tera up everything!"

"I mean like a fence, Alaric," Tom muttered."You've got one."He nodded to the fence;

"Oh."Alaric said."Well, I don't think you'll be able to break him anytime soon. Come inside. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

"Yeah, I'm starved," Tom admitted."I didn't have breakfast this morning."

"Well come on in and let's eat," Alaric grinned.

"Lead the way," Tom said, grinning back.

The inside of Malfoy Mansion was definitely more spacious. Tom wished there were a map set up somewhere so he knew where he was going. He'd get lost for sure had not Alaric was showing him around. There was a great large room of family portraits and fencing coils. 

"We don't just duel with wands," Alaric boasted, "we know how to fence too.I'll fence with you after we eat."

"Okay," Tom said."Sounds like fun."

Alaric continued the tour until they got to the dining room on the first floor."Mimmy!" Alaric shouted at one of the houseless."My guest and I are hungry!Bring us food!"

"Alaric, do you have to be so rough with them?" Tom asked, noticing the house elf run off to begin cooking, looking really scared.

"It makes them work faster," said Alaric coolly, as if it were all right to treat the house elves like they were dirt.

The lot of house elves scurried to set the table with fine brunch items Tom has only eaten at Hogwarts.Tom had manners and thanked the elves for the meal as Alaric complained his was not good enough.For a minute there, Tom was glad his mother didn't marry Alaric's father, Darien Malfoy or Tom would've turned out to be a selfish, rich and spoiled brat.Tom loved the Malfoy manor.It was better than the orphanage, that was for sure and at times, it was better than Hogwarts.Still, Tom was humble and though he didn't have any parents to guide him, his mentors and the grownups at the orphanage taught him the importance of good manners, read to him the bible.With all the money Alaric's family had, couldn't he have afforded some manners?

Tom didn't dwell on t too much.After all, Alaric was his friend and acted like a brother to him.He invited him to his lovely home and played with him, dueled with him in the dueling room, showed him his toys and pets.It was strange though. He was the only child in this house.Why did he not have any brothers or sisters? Was it because Mr. Malfoy just wanted one child--just a son to keep the Malfoy name going?They certainly could've afforded more children.After hours of playing inside, Alaric took Tom back outside for a broom ride and a crash course in Quidditch.

"I'm thinking of joining the Quidditch team next year," Alaric said, leading him to the shed where they kept the brooms and Quidditch supplies."What about you, Riddle?"

"Aren't the positions full already?" Tom asked."No one from the Quidditch team graduated last year."

"Ulysses Flint, the chaser is graduating next year." Alaric shrugged.

"You want to take his old position as a Chaser?"

"Yeah.Or maybe I'll a Seeker.I'd like to be the one who wins the game…gets the gold…Seekers get all the glory."

"Yeah, and they get bloodied up more than anyone else," Tom said."Justin Higgs almost got his got his brains knocked out in the last game."

"What position would you take, Tom?" Alaric inquired as they went on the field, carrying the chest containing the Quaffle, two bats, two Bludgers and the golden Snitch.

"Alaric, I'm a terrible flier," Tom moaned."You saw me in all those flying lessons.I won't be able to play anything."

"You should try to be a Seeker," Alaric suggested.

Tom nearly dropped the chest."Are you serious?I'll get killed five minutes in!"

"I'm joking," Alaric smiled."I think you'd do better as a Keeper. They don't have to fly so much…they just sit there on their brooms, guarding the hoops.And you're built like one."

"We've got a good Keeper," said Tom."Calvin Warrington and he'll be a fourth year.I'd have to wait until I'm a sixth year to become Keeper.I'm better with the books."

"Oh, you just have to practice a bit."

"How long have you been flying anyway?" Tom asked once they set down the chest.

"Oh, since I was like…four?" Alaric said, shrugging and scratching the back of his head."Almost about the same time I learned how to walk.My dad gave me a toy broomstick to practice with. Let's fly around a bit, okay?"

"All right." 

Though Alaric was great on a broom, Tom was not.Tom kept falling off his broom and couldn't keep control of it.

"It's too fast for me to control!" Tom shouted, after falling off for the hundredth time."I need a slower broom to practice first.Do you have any?"

Alaric grinned. "Slower brooms? Give me a break, Tom.We've just got the fastest!"

"Do you still have that toy broom?" Tom asked.

Alaric's grin turned into a laugh."You're thinking of riding it? Tom…that's for little kids!I grew too big for it when I turned eight!"

"I can't stay on this blasted thing," Tom muttered."You got _anything_ besides these Comet 140's?"  
"Sure," Alaric said."I have a Moontrimmer and a Cleansweep One."

"What's the difference?"

"The Moontrimmer was invited in 1901 and it can go higher now the Cl--,"

"I'll take the Cleansweep One," Tom said, handing him the Comet 140."I don't want to fall from a thousand feet and break my neck."

"But the Cleansweep is kind of fast.Not so fast as the Comet 140."

"Fine."

But even with a slower broom, Tom was having difficulty.He couldn't' fly at the speed he wanted it to go and he felt very awkward o a broom. Tom was used to horses.All he used brooms for was sweeping dirt from the ground.It got worse when Alaric opened the chest and began using the equipment.Tom could hit a Bludger fine when he was standing on the ground.He played baseball a couple of times at the orphanage but when he was in the air, he lost his balance.He could also catch and throw the Quaffle when his feet were planted on the ground. Though he didn't do it very much, Tom played basketball a couple of times and he was built like a basketball player too.However, when up in the air, catching the Quaffle and throwing it was darn near difficult.Catching the snitch was impossible for Tom.He couldn't catch it, let alone find it flittering around in the sky.It was too small and fast.Tom found himself cursing madly when he was trying to catch up with it without falling off his broom again.Alaric was not helping either.Every time Tom fell off his broom or did a funny movement when he tried to throw and catch the Quaffle, or when Tom hadn't caught up with the speed and he kept shouting, "Whoa! Whoa!" Alaric would begin laughing.

"Alaric, it's not funny!" Tom snapped."I'm no good at this!I'm surprised I haven't broken anything yet!"

"Oh, okay," Alaric said finally."Let's go back inside. My house elves can clean you up."

Tom had a cut on his cheek and his body was aching.After a house elf put something to heal the cut on his cheek, Alaric told him to take a bath for dinner.Alaric even assigned a house elf named Dobby to do his work for him.Tom felt strange about having a little creature wait on him hand and foot.Dobby was younger than the other house elves, he was probably just a child but it was hard to tell.Tom didn't know how the creatures aged.

"Good sir, friend of young master Alaric Malfoy," Dobby said, laying down a bathrobe and towel for him as Tom went to take his bath."These are for you…is there anything else Dobby can do for you, sir?"

"No thank you, Dobby," Tom said awkwardly.

"Enjoy your bath, sir."

"Please, call me Tom," Tom insisted.

"Yes, Tom, sir."Dobby said."Dobby will come when you are ready to get dressed. Dobby will help sir get dressed for dinner."

"It's no trouble," Tom said.

"Dobby wishes master Tom Riddle to enjoy himself or Dobby will feel responsible."

"I am liking it here," Tom said."You are a good house elf, Dobby."

"You are much kinder than my master," Dobby said and he looked quite scared."Bad Dobby!" He grabbed the bar of soap and attempted to eat it.

"No, don't do that!" Tom gasped, grabbing it from him."What was that for?"

"Dobby spoke ill of his master…"

"It's all right, I'm not going to tell Alaric on you are anything," Tom said."I'll go take my bath."

"I've already drawn your water, Tom sir."

"Thank you, Dobby.I'll call you if I need you."

Dobby smiled and scampered out.Tom shut the bedroom door and walked into the bathroom.Just like Alaric said, he let him sleep in is very own wing with one of the house elves to serve him.The room was very large with a wardrobe of fine clothes, a desk and dresser and a comfortable bed and it came with a private bathroom a toilet, sink and bathtub. When he had to use the toilet during the middle of the night, he wouldn't even have to go into the hall.He'd just have to wake up and walk five feet.

Tom took off his clothes and sat down in the bathtub, sighing as the warm water began to relax his sore and tight muscles and looked around the room.It kind of reminded him of the Slytherin common room.The faucets were in the shape of a snake's head and there was a bath rug with snake on it.In, fact, the whole castle was very Slytherin-ish and gothic.Green and silver decorations all over the place, paintings of snakes, dark magic items, it would make some people nervous to be here but Tom felt like he was at home.

Tom smiled. Home.He really liked it here and it was going right for his first day. Maybe Mr. Malfoy will adopt him.He and Alaric already were like brothers.Now they could be brothers for real.But Tom decided to wait a while and get a feel of the mansion.He haven't even met Alaric's mother yet and he didn't talk to Alaric's father very much.

After a warm relaxing bath and being squeaky clean, Tom grabbed a towel, pulled the plug and dried himself off.Wearing a bathrobe, he went to the wardrobe to see what he could wear.The wardrobe was filled with nice dress robes, pants, suits, wizard wear and even the best muggle clothes.

"Wow," Tom mumbled, "I can get used to this place."

Tom picked out a set of green dress robes, combed his hair the best he could and walked out of the room, wondering if he could remember the way to the dining room. When he got lost, he called for Dobby.

"Dobby!"

There was a loud pop and Dobby appeared by his side."Sir? What can Dobby do for you?"

"I'm…lost," Tom murmured."Where's the dining room again?"

Dobby took Tom back down to the dining room but Alaric had not arrived yet but the house elves were cooking.

"Can Dobby get sir something?"

"Uh, sure. Thank you, Dobby.I guess some water while I wait for Alaric."

After sipping some water, Alaric finally came, wearing matching robes."I see we've got the same taste in clothes," Alaric said, grinning.

"Where's your mum?" Tom asked."I haven't met her yet."

"She likes to stay in her room and read sometimes," Alaric explained. 

"If your father fancied my mother," Tom began, "who'd he marry?"

"Carrie's best friend, of course," Alaric said."If you can't marry the girl of her dreams, go to her best friend."

"Who was that?"

"Serena Snape," he answered.

Mr. Malfoy stepped in the room, accompanied by his wife Serena.Tom gasped.She looked like his mother. She had the same blond curly hair but Tom noticed black bangs.That wasn't her natural hair.The woman actually had black hair but she was wearing a blond curly wig to _look _like Carrie Star.Darien Malfoy must've been obsessed with her so much that he married her best friend and ordered her to wear a wig so she'd look like Carrie.

"Good evening," said Mrs. Malfoy."So, it is Tom?"

"Yes."

"Carrie was my best friend at Hogwarts," she said."It's awful about her death."

"let's not speak about that, dear," Darien Malfoy muttered."Ah, shall we eat?"

They ate at a long dinner table.Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were at the ends and Tom and Alaric sat on the long sides of the table.Tom couldn't' help noticing Mrs. Malfoy. She didn't look very happy wearing the wig.Was she wearing it now so Tom thought his mother was still here or was did it make Mr. Malfoy believe Carrie was still alive?

Though the food was great, Tom wasn't very hungry.After a small desert, he asked Dobby to escort him back to his room.

"Dinner was lovely," Tom said, bowing."Thank you. See you in the morning."

"This way, Tom," Dobby said, leading him back to the room.He got him a set of pajamas for him."Anything else Dobby can do for Master?"

"No thanks, Dobby. I'm very tired."

"Good night."

"Good night."

Tom watched the house elf leave the room and Tom took off the clothes he wore to dinner, hung them up nicely back in his wardrobe and placed on the pajamas.After lying in the bed for a couple of minutes, going over how his first day at the Malfoy Mansion went, he finally drifted off to sleep.

--

Tom awoke a few hours after dawn when Dobby came into his room with a breakfast tray."Morning, good sir.Dobby has brought you breakfast in bed!"

"But—I could just—go to the kitchen and—" Tom began, surprised. He had _never gotten breakfast in bed before._

"Dobby brought the kitchen to you!" Dobby said excitedly."Dobby was not sure what master wanted, so Dobby brought a little of everything.Eggs, toast and—"

"Thank you, Dobby," Tom said.

"If Master wants something else, let Dobby know!"

"Thanks."

Tom reached for his fork and started to eat.He couldn't help but smile thorough the whole meal."This is the _life!" _

After breakfast, Tom met with Alaric outside for a horse ride.Tom wanted to try to ride Black Runner, but Alaric suggested him to ride one that was already broken.After riding around inside the wall for a while, they went outside to observe the countryside.Alaric was impressed with Tom's riding ability.

"You're better on a horse than a broomstick," Alaric put honestly."But you can play Quidditch with them."

"Because when you say _whoa to a horse," Tom said, leaning forward to stroke theo horse's neck, "it'll listen."_

"I'm good on a horse too though," Alaric bragged.

"Care to race me then?" Tom asked, eyes glinting.

"All right then," Alaric grinned.

They raced around the place.Alaric was pretty good with a horse but he treated his steed the same way he treated his servants. But the way Tom rode with his horse, it was like they were one.Alaric was left out in the dust and shouting at his horse didn't help.After hours of horseback riding, Alaric admitted he wasn't as good on a horse as he was on a broomstick.

"I'm going inside," Alaric sighed."You coming?"

"Nah, you go on ahead."

"All right then."

Alaric left and Tom continued to ride the horse and stopped at a stream to let it drink.He clicked his tongue to get the horse moving to a trot.Tom thought about going back to the stables and try to break Black Runner, the wild stallion.After riding the brown horse he was on now, he went to the stables, took off the saddle and went to Black Runner.Tom let it get to trust him a bit before opening the gate and letting him go.

Alaric was right about Black Runner. It was a wild horse but Tom was determined to break it.He took it by the bit and pulled him out of the stables. 

"Come _on," Tom muttered."You'll like it better once you get in the ring."_

Bringing Black Runner inside the ring was no easy task but he was able to get it inside so it could run around and work off his tension.Tom just sat on the fence and watched, trying to talk it down.It did not matter to Tom if he had to sit out here for the whole day, he was going to break Black Runner and ride him.Tom knew he could do it.Tom then locked the horse in an area to groom his mane, tail and fix his horseshoes.Black Runner was neighing like mad but Tom continued talking to it softly.

"You'll thank me when this is over, Black Runner," Tom insisted, "If you could talk.You're just upset because they kept you in that stable for so long and won't ride you."

Tom placed the blanket and saddle on Black Runner and pulled himself up just as Alaric was coming back outside.

"Tom, are you _crazy?" Alaric demanded."Riding __him?"_

"He hasn't kicked me in the head yet," Tom said."Open the gate.I think he wants out."

"You're mental, you know that? Mental."Alaric shook his head but opened the gate, still the same. Black Runner tried to buck Tom off but he held on for dear life, trying to control it.Then, finally, it reared up and charged out of gate, Alaric chasing after him.

"Tom!" he shouted. "You're mental!"

The stallion ran around like it was possessed and yet Tom hung on tight.

"Alaric," Tom called, "open the steel gate to the wall.He'll do better if he's away from here!"

"You're going to die, Tom," Alaric muttered."I'm telling you."

"Just open the damn gate!" Tom shouted.

Shocked, Alaric opened the gate and Tom steered the horse towards it.

"I'll be back when this horse is broken," he shouted.

"If you're still alive!"

It was hard to steer Black Runner but after awhile, not that it was away from Malfoy Mansion, it seemed to calm down and let Tom steer him wherever Tom wished.Tom couldn't believe he actually did it.Tom made the black stallion run to its fastest, speed, jump over fallen logs and stones and creeks. Tom loved the wind against his face. He felt like he was fling, really flying, and one with a once wild horse.It was better than riding on piece of wood.Tom had a special love for horses and they must've loved him back too or breaking Black Runner would've been impossible.By the time the sun was about to go down, Tom realized he should be getting back.

"Think you can go back home now?" he asked the wild stallion.

As if Black Runner understood him, it neighed and nodded his head.Tom laughed.

"Let's go then…"

Alaric was sitting on a bale of hay, waiting for Tom to arrive.He gasped and stood up when Tom came back.

"I don't believe it," Alaric gasped."You actually got to break him."

"I told you I could break this horse," Tom smiled, patting its side."I think he's tired.I rode him a lot.You should keep him in a different place in the stables for now on.Or out here at least. Black Runner doesn't like being cooped up.He likes being free."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alaric said, still breathless. "How—how did you do that?"

"I guess I have a way with horses," Tom said."Well, I'm starving."

"You look like you need something to eat," Alaric suggested."You've been with that horse all day!"

"Yeah, but it was worth it," Tom pulled himself down and brought it inside the ring, removing the reigns, blanket and saddle."I really like this horse by the way."

"Maybe I should take him for a ride then," Alaric said, reaching for the horse and it neighed angrily, pushing his head toward him.

"I think I know why you're better on a broom, Alaric," said Tom.

While looking at Alaric's toys, the boys ate sandwiches, talking and gossiping.

"Alaric, you think your dad will adopt me?" Tom asked.

Alaric almost choked on his sandwich. "What?"

"I guess that's a no," Tom mumbled.

"I was just taken by surprise," Alaric said. "I don't know if he will…but…he's letting you stay this summer and he likes you.You can talk to him tonight and ask him!"

"Really?"

"Yeah.It's a good idea.Why live with those muggles forever?" Alaric said. "You can live here with us.We've got room!And you broke Black Runner. That's good enough to impress my father and I know my mother likes you.Yeah…that's a great idea, Riddle!You can stay here with me!We can tell him tomorrow morning. No, let's not sleep on this.Do it now! Go take bath wash that horse smell off you. My father might be with his study.Come get me and tell me how it goes!"he started pushing him out the door."It's a perfect idea, Tom!You can become a Malfoy!You don't deserve you keep your filthy muggle father's name forever! No way!"

"You think your father would say yes?" Tom asked nervously.

"Positive! You belong here.Hurry.I'm excited."

"Yeah, I've always hoped a rich family would adopt me," Tom said."I didn't want to go home with any farmers."

"Exactly.This is where you belong, Tom."

"I'll go to my room, uh, wing and then I'll talk to your dad."

"I'll find him for you," said Alaric, "and bring him the idea…. he'll have to talk to you afterwards. This is a great idea, Tom!You becoming my new brother!I'll go find my father."

"And I'll go find my room," said Tom."It's the East wing, right? Oh…Dobby!I can't find my room again!"

# To Be Continued


	8. Unwanted

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 8

**Unwanted**

Tom bathed and dressed in the finest clothed he found in the wardrobe and went to meet with Mr. Malfoy.  He was so excited.  This was the perfect place for him to live.  It had everything.  Alaric was already talking to his father and Tom bumped into Mrs. Malfoy first in the den, the blond curly wig sitting on a desk beside her. Mrs. Malfoy's natural black hair was cut in layers around her shoulders and she was humming to herself absentmindedly.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" Tom inquired. "Are you all right?"

Mrs. Malfoy gasped and grabbed the wig, setting it on her head.  "Oh…Tom…hello…something I can help you with?"

"You don't need to wear that," Tom said.  "You're a person, not a house elf…why do you wear it anyway?"

"Darien insists I wear it," she answered.  "He says I look better as a blond and it helps us both with your mother's passing, of course.  I always wanted to be just like Carrie."

"I know she was a good fortune teller," Tom said, "but you don't need to wear that on my account.  I never even saw her."

"You really don't need to wear it, Mrs. Malfoy." Tom insisted.  

"I probably don't," she sighed. "But Darien really misses Carrie very much."

"That's why he married you," Tom said, "because you were her best friend."

"Exactly—and we mourn her loss together," said Mrs. Malfoy.

"You don't mind wearing that wig?" Tom inquired, pointing at the log, curly blond wig. "Pretending to be my mother when you're not?"

"But I can be, Tom," she smiled. "Alaric just told me about the idea of adopting you!"

"And…you support the idea?" Tom asked.

"Raising my best friend's son?" she gasped.  "Of course…Tom!  It's something Carrie would've wanted.  I will be the closest thing to your mother.  You and Alaric are already like brothers. You are welcome to stay at Malfoy mansion.  Much better than that muggle orphanage—why—that's no place for a handsome boy like yourself."  She smiled and smoothed out his black hair.  It was sweet, but also kind of unsettling.  Either Mrs. Malfoy was under some kind of spell, or she was mad. She sure had some mad, insane aura around her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," Tom said nervously. "Do you know where I can find Mr. Malfoy?"

"Oh, yes, we'd have to run it by Darien, won't we?" she inquired with a vague smile.  "Come now. We'll go find him."

Alaric was talking to Mr. Malfoy in a large office.  Mr. Malfoy jumped to his feet when Tom entered the room.

"Tom, there you are, my boy," he said, grinning broadly.  "Alaric just told me about adopting you. What do you think Serena?"

Tom was surprised he called Mrs. Malfoy by her real name and was even more surprised when she answered to it.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," she answered.  "Carrie would want this…she'd be singing in her grave."

"Yes, I believe she would," Mr. Malfoy said.  "Alaric, Serena, a moment with Tom, if you please?"

"Sure, Father," Alaric said.  He smiled to Tom.  "I'll be waiting for you in my room, brother."

Tom nodded.  The Malfoy family seemed as insane as they were wealthy, yet Tom still would rather stay here than at the orphanage. Anything was better than that orphanage.

"I'll be right outside, Darien," Mrs. Malfoy instructed as she closed the door behind her, hand on Alaric's shoulder.

Just as the door was shut, Mr. Malfoy went to go lock it. Tom looked at the paintings and heads of deer and unicorns mounted on his wall.  Mr. Malfoy walked up to Tom, grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted his head up.  Tom wasn't sure, but he had the distinct feeling that Mr. Malfoy was going to hurt him.

"Er, Mr. Malfoy?" Tom began.

"You have her eyes," Mr. Malfoy said.

"Yeah…my mothers' eyes."

"Carrie Star had the prettiest, darkest eyes of anyone I've ever known," Mr. Malfoy reminisced.  "You could tell…when you found her looking into your eyes, you looking back into hers, that she could see into your soul and read your mind."

"R-really?" Tom stammered.

"Yes…and you can't do, can't you Tom?" 

"Well, I guess so…" Maybe he could, because he began to think Mr. Malfoy was crazier by the minute.

"Carrie had a way with persuading people to do things for her," Mr. Malfoy explained, "I know I'd do anything and everything for her.  Sometimes she didn't even have to say anything. She could just _look _at you.  That was how your mother was, Tom.  A pity you never knew her."

Tom nodded his head.

"I miss her too.  Sometimes I can still feel her in my head and hear her voice.  She's the kind of woman you can never forget.  Wonderful witch, Carrie was.  I have a way to remember her.  So I always have her near. Would you like to see, Tom?"

"See what?"

"Come with me.  There is something you should see. No one knows about it.  You will be the first one I've ever shown."

"Is it," Tom asked, "a kind of magical tool you could use to see my mother in the afterlife?"

"Oh, if only if it were, Tom!"  Mr. Malfoy exclaimed. "But no…I'm afraid, I haven't something like that. But it is something worth seeing." Mr. Malfoy walked to his bookcase, pulled back a book on the top shelf and the bookcase shifted to the right.  Grinning, Mr. Malfoy beckoned Tom to follow him.  

Tom swallowed and took one step.  He almost stopped dead when his eyes fell on the secret room.  It was a round room with glowing torches.  

"Isn't it wonderful, Tom?" Mr. Malfoy asked, a grin on his pale, lost face.  "A _shrine _to your mother…Carrie Star…the best witch of them all."

Tom's eyes nearly popped out of his sockets.  His stomach turned. A boy stumbling onto a shrine dedicated to the mother he never meant might be interesting and exciting, but Tom found it unsettling and sick.  Maybe just a picture of Carrie would be nice, but this room was like the vault in Diagon Alley, except it had more.  There was a life-size statue of Carrie Star standing in the room and her eyes followed wherever Mr. Malfoy went.  Even as a statue, her eyes still seemed to have that hypnotizing effect on him.  There were paintings galore of Carrie Star on the walls, different things that belonged to Carrie Star and things she desired and loved, mostly divination items. Tom suddenly pictured in his mind's eye of Carrie walking to class, minding her own business and groaning when she heard lovesick Darien Malfoy chasing after her with flowers shouting, "wait my love!  Wait!  Don't run!  I love you! I need you!"

Mr. Malfoy walked up to the statue of Carrie and touched the face of it, his gray eyes staring down into the stone carved statue, outlining her face and body as if the statue was actually Carrie.  Mr. Malfoy was truly insane. Tom knew that for sure now.  Not only did Mr. Malfoy love Carrie, have lustful emotions for her, he was totally obsessed of her.  Why? Certainly his mother didn't mean to do that, did she?  Maybe the whole Malfoy family was mad.  Darien Malfoy had to have been mad before he even started Hogwarts. It had to be a Malfoy gene.  Had to be. Tom started to have second thoughts about living in this home.  He didn't want to end up insane like the rest of the Malfoy family, no matter _how _spacious and fancy the manor was.

"Such beauty," Mr. Malfoy mumbled, "most beautified.  She had the body of a real seductress.  I had the pleasure of escorting her to the Yule Ball in our fourth year.  She didn't have anything to wear so I bought her the perfect gown. She looked _radiant _that night. Your father—whoever he was—was a very lucky man, Tom…Carrie was half veela, you know."

"She was?" Tom asked nervously.

"Oh, yes indeed."

"Mr. Malfoy," Tom cleared his throat, "about adopting me…"

"Huh? Oh, yes," Mr. Malfoy turned around, blinking.  "We will adopt you.  This is the best place for you to be…and whenever you miss your mother, you can just come here and talk to her.  I come and talk to her a lot…hours a day.." he began to look and feel the statue around.  "A pity she had to die…how—did she die—Tom?  I never knew.  I lost track of her after our last year at Hogwarts."

"Childbirth," Tom replied. "Died giving birth to me."

"Your father must've died from a broken heart," Mr. Malfoy said sadly.  "Poor fellow—what was his name?"

"Tom Riddle," Tom repeated.  "And he's not dead—I don't think he is anyway."

"Tom Riddle," Mr. Malfoy pondered. "I don't recognize that name.  That's…your name."

"I was named after him. My father was a muggle," Tom explained.  "He left my mother before I was born."

Mr. Malfoy's expression changed as if he were just brought back to Earth.  In a way, he was.  "What?"

"I said my father was a muggle."

"Your father was a muggle, you say?" Mr. Malfoy's eyes narrowed and he stepped loser to Tom.  He looked angry.

"Yes, sir."

He shook his head. "You must be joking, Tom.  Why would your mother sleep with a muggle? She should never even talk to one…they weren't worth her time…not when she could have had, someone, someone like _me."_

"I don't know," Tom shrugged.  "She probably didn't know he was a muggle.  She just left me a note in the family vault she knew she was going to die and he left her while she was carrying me."

"I don't believe this."

"Neither do I, sir," Tom said.  "That's why I was brought up in a muggle orphanage."

"This cannot be," Mr. Malfoy said, shaking his head.

"Mr. Malfoy, I thought Alaric told you," Tom said.

"No, Tom. He did not.  But I as sure as hell wish he did…before he talked me into letting you stay here."

"Why is that?"

"Then I wouldn't have let you come, Tom. I cannot let a halfblood infest my house."

"What?" Tom gasped.  "Half—half blood?"

"That is what you are, boy," Mr. Malfoy spat.  "Your father was a muggle—you bear his name—and incase Alaric has not told you, the Malfoy family looks down on muggles."

"But I'm not a muggle!" Tom shouted.  "I'm a wizard! I go to Hogwarts with Alaric!"

"Not as good as a pureblood, I'm afraid," Mr. Malfoy spat.  "Your father was a muggle—you bear his name—and in case Alaric has not told you, the Malfoy family looks down on muggles."

"But I'm not a muggle!" Tom shouted.  "I'm a wizard! I go to Hogwarts with Alaric!"

"Not as good as a pureblood, I'm afraid," Mr. Malfoy said.  "You will need to go back to the orphanage."

"Go back?  Mr. Malfoy, you don't know what it's like over there!" Tom exclaimed. "Please adopt me!  I won't hurt anybody…I can be a good son.  I broke Black Runner for you. Alaric and I best friends."

"How can Alaric be best friends with you, I wonder?" Mr. Malfoy demanded.  "Alaric knows he should only be _fraternizing _with purebloods! Not mudbloods—not even half-bloods!—Does not matter who your magical parent was!"

"Mr. Malfoy, you made a _shrine _to my only magical parent," Tom said, "We're standing in it!  I don't think my mother appreciates how you're treating me right now."

"Why did your mother have a muggle man for a husband?" Mr. Malfoy questioned.  "When she could have had a pureblood wizard like me?  I would have done _anything _for her! Anything!  And I did do everything for her in school.  I checked out every book from the restriction section for her.  I lied and cheated for her.  I fed her cat and even cleaned out her cat box!  I gave her the best things money could buy.  There was nothing I wouldn't' do for her! I even would have killed for her. Why? Why did she choose this Tom Riddle?  Why a muggle?  Why?"  
"I don't know, sir," Tom mumbled.  "But you can still adopt me.  I love it here. Don't send me back!"

"I am sending you back to that orphanage you hate, boy," Mr. Malfoy muttered. "You will not be allowed to set foot in this house again."  
"Even if Alaric invites me?"

"Alaric will know better than to even think of it!" Mr. Malfoy roared.  "You will not owl him!  Stay away from my son! Stay away from my house!"

"You can't—" Tom began.  

"I want you out of this house in the morning," Mr. Malfoy hissed.  "You will stay in that orphanage until someone really wants you for what you are. Good luck."

Tom clenched his fists.  "Very well…I don't' think I want to live here anyway…and have you for a father.  I'm glad my mother never married you!  Best thing she ever did!  I bet you never left her alone! You are _insane! INSANE!"_

"Get out!"

Tom backed out of the secret room.  Mr. Malfoy looked back at the statue of Carrie, looking sorrowful and a bit angry.  

"Why a muggle, Carrie?" he asked it as if it could talk back. "Was I not—good enough?  What did a muggle with no magical powers have that I did not? I would have given you everything…everything your heart desired.  WAS I NOT GOOD ENOUGH?"

--

Tom crossed paths with Alaric on the way to his room.  Alaric was wearing a big grin on his face.  "I was just about to come and see you. How'd it go?"

"He's not going to adopt me, Alaric," Tom said.  

"WHAT?!" 

Tom pushed Alaric in a den and closed the doors.  "Your dad won't adopt me."

"Why not?" Alaric demanded.  "Is he mental?"

"I think so," Tom said.  "Haven't you noticed?  Your father is insane, Alaric. Is your family related to Uric the Oddball?"

Alaric shrugged.  "We might be," he answered, rubbing his arm in thought, tapping his chin.  "I'm pretty sure that's what my great grandfather said anyway, but he could've been wrong.  His mind was going…"

"He's got a shrine to my mother," Tom said.  "In his office."

"What?" Alaric gasped.  "No way…I've never seen it."

"There's a hidden passageway in his office," Tom explained, "he showed it to me.  He was obsessed with my mother.  Had a shrine and pictures of her everywhere!    Your father is crazy, Alaric!  You should've seen the way he was acting."

"Why wouldn't' he adopt you?" Alaric asked.  "It's not like we don't have room for you…"

"He thinks you don't."  Tom said. "According to your father, there's no room for a _half-blood in a place like this. Why didn't you tell him I was a half-blood?"_

"I didn't think it was important," Alaric answered.

"Wasn't important?"  Tom demanded.  "Alaric, you must be mental too!  Your father said that a high class pureblood family can't let me stay at your house…you can't even talk to them.  Why did you become friends with me, Alaric?  You wanted to rebel?  Or because I'm Slytherin's Heir? Is that why you wanted to be my friend, Alaric?"

"Of course not, Tom!" Alaric barked. "You told me you were half-blood before you were sorted into Slytherin. If I didn't want to be friends with you, I would've went straight to a different compartment!"

"Why did you stay?"

"I don't know," Alaric answered, shrugging.  "There was just something about you—that I liked—you've got brains…I like that.  Doesn't matter if you're halfblood.  Crabbe and Goyle are purebloods and they can't even spell." He laughed, hoping Tom would laugh with him but Tom was too angry to even smile.  "You're unique.  And you're a real Slytherin.  Most ambitious individual in our year."

"You—you really wanted to be my friend?" Tom asked.

Alaric nodded.  "Absolutely."

Now Tom was able to smile. He sat down. Maybe Tom inherited that persuading behavior from his mother.

"Thanks."

"Anyway, it doesn't even matter," Alaric said, "I'll make my father reconsider.  He'll want to keep you here if you're the last descendant to Salazar Slytherin!"

"Oh, I don't think so," Tom said.

"Why? Did you tell him who you really were?" 

"No."

"Well, what's your problem, Riddle?" Alaric demanded.  "Relax.  I'll get it all worked out.  If you just told him you were Slytherin's heir then he would've forgotten about the little mudblood thing. I thought for sure he'd keep you if you were Carrie's son."

"He's angry because my mother married a muggle," Tom explained. "He wanted to be her husband."

"We'll fix this," Alaric insisted.  "Don't worry about a thing."

"I don't think I want your dad to adopt me, Alaric," Tom said.  

"Why not?"

"Your dad is insane, that's why!" Tom shouted.  "If you have seen the shrine to my mother, you'd understand.  He treats your mom like she's _my mother! _Why does she wear that blond wig all the time? And your mother…your mother doesn't seem to care about wearing it!  I'm surprised he doesn't call _your _mother Carrie!  Are you sure she's not confounded?  
"She's not," said Alaric.  "Let's go talk this over. Come on."

Reluctantly, Tom followed Alaric back to the den to speak with Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Malfoy.  They were both wearing sneers.

"Alaric, you are not to speak to Tom anymore," Mr. Malfoy ordered.  "He is a half-blood."

"I already knew that," Alaric muttered.  "It doesn't matter because he's the heir of Slytherin!"

Mr. Malfoy chuckled so loudly, so manically, that the windows were about to break.

"Heir of Slytherin?" he inquired, wiping tears from his face.  "That boy?"  
"Makes more sense than a mudblood, father," said Alaric.

"I knew he wouldn't believe it," Tom muttered in his best friend's ear, "I still don't believe it myself."

"Come on, Riddle," Alaric muttered back, "the Sorting Hat's never wrong."  He looked at his parents.  "You can't send Tom back to that orphanage. He hates it there!  He is the heir of Slytherin. Really he is!"

"Quit making up stories, Alaric," Mr. Malfoy said lowly.  "Your friend there is going back tomorrow and I don't want him to set foot in this place again!"

"Dad--," Alaric began.

"Forget it, Alaric," Tom said.   "Forget it."

Alaric folded his arms.

"You are not to even talk to him again.  Don't even look at him!"

"We both go to Slytherin!" Alaric exclaimed.  "How am I supposed to not look at him again?  Tom is my best friend. You really expect me to talk to Crabbe and Goyle all the time?"

"Their parents are both magical."

"But they're _stupid_!" Alaric cried.  "They'd do better as muggles than wizards, Father.  You know that!  Tom may be a halfblood but he's a bloody good wizard!  He ranked high on all his tests!  He can study at the fifth year level!  He broke Black Runner.  We've been trying to break Black Runner for years! Tom can do anything—except fly a broomstick…"

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Thanks, Alaric."

"I'm not surprised," Mr. Malfoy said.  "Because _muggles _can't ride broomsticks."

"I'm not a muggle, Mr. Malfoy," Tom muttered.  "My father might be but my mother was a witch.  I'm a wizard and I do have Slytherin blood."

"You are to leave tomorrow," Mr. Malfoy ordered. "The matter is closed.  Understand?"

"Yes sir," Alaric muttered.

"Do try to understand, Tom," Mrs. Malfoy said, "It's better this way.  You grew up in the orphanage…you're comfortable there."

"Comfortable?" Alaric gasped. "Mother, Tom's been uncomfortable in that place his whole life! The kids hate him!"  
"That is not our concern," said Mr. Malfoy.  "Both of you to bed.  Tom is going back to the orphanage first thing in the morning. Understand?"

"Fine…Come on, Tom.  We'll go play in my room for the last time."  He looked back at his father.  "You're making a very big mistake!  Tom's going to be great someday!  You'll just wait!  He'll rule the world!"

"Alaric, stop," Tom mumbled, his cheeks red.

Tom was having mixed feelings about the whole thing.  Living at the Malfoy Mansion with his best friend sounded wonderful but at the same time it sounded risky.  His new adoptive father was no doubt insane.  He was still in love with a woman who was dead, who probably never returned his feelings.  Tom was also very saddened.  For all his years at the orphanage, he was afraid about being adopted because of what he was.  Before he was even born, a muggle man did not want him because Tom was the son of a witch. Now a wizard man did not want him because he was the son of a muggle.  It seemed as though nobody—whether they were muggle or wizard—wanted Tom for a son.  But Tom wasn't just the son of witch or the son of a muggle, Tom was an orphan.  His parents might had been together long enough to create him and when he was just a fetus growing helplessly in his mother's womb, his father left him before he got to see the family resemblance.  It was not fair to poor orphaned Tom.  Was there anyone—anyone at all—who would care for this boy?  Why did he have to grow up in an orphanage where all the other orphaned boys hated him, the girls feared him and the adults misunderstood him?  For a moment, Tom thought all that was going to change and just as the puzzle was coming together, it was taken apart again.  He was back to square one.  Now he didn't feel like the Heir of Slytherin at all. He felt, just like he always did before he came to Hogwarts, Tom the Orphan.  That's just what Tom was going to be too.  He certainly didn't feel like Her of Slytherin, or the greatest wizard of the age and how could he be when living in an orphanage for his whole childhood?  Tom was an orphan and nobody was going to adopt him.  He might as well face it now.  It was the awful, sad truth.

Bobby and the others bothered him even more when he came back.  "What's the matter, Riddle?" Bobby  asked, his eyes glinting.  "The wizard didn't want you?"

"Shut up," Tom snapped.

"You really _are _pathetic, Riddle!" Bobby laughed.  "Ordinary people wouldn't want you because you were a freak and now even freaks just like you don't want you either!"

"I'm not a freak!" Tom snapped.

"Leave him alone!" Sarah cried, running into the boy's room.  "That's enough!  Tom is not a freak, he's a _genius! The rest of you are idiots!  You don't have a chance of getting adopted any more than Tom!  So just leave him alone!"_

"Sarah, go," Tom whispered.

"I can hear you on the next floor," Sarah muttered.  "You keep bothering Tom any more and I'll—I'll scream and Miss Smith will send you to another orphanage!"

"No, you won't," Bobby sneered.  "You don't have the guts!"

"You keep trying to make Tom miserable and I won't have to!" she said. "She'll hear you all fighting!"

"Miserable?" Bobby asked. "Well, let's make him feel better, right boys?"

Patrick and Ned snickered.

"Leave me alone, Bobby," Tom said.  "I don't want to fight with you."

"Why?" Patrick demanded. "Because Tommy got magic homework to do?"

"At least I'm smart enough to do it," Tom sneered.  "You dumb git.  All of ya!"

"What?" Bobby gasped.  "Pummel him!"

Ned grabbed Tom by the collar and just as he pulled back his fist, Sarah clenched her fists, took in a deep breath, closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting out the longest, highest, loudest scream ever heard.  Bobby, Patrick, Ned and even Tom stumbled back with their fingers in their ears.  

"Make her stop!" Ned yelled.

Loud footsteps came stomping up the stairs and voices carried throughout the hall.  

"What's going up there?"

"Was that Sarah?"

"I think Bobby is bothering Tom again."

"Not again!"

Patrick walked to Sarah, trying to cover her mouth up.  "Quit screaming!  Shut up!"

The other orphans and Miss Smith walked in the room.  

"What's the matter?" she demanded.  "Explain yourselves!"

Sarah immediately stopped screaming.  "Patrick was going to hit me."

"No I wasn't!" Patrick shouted.

"Bobby, Patrick and Ned were fighting Tom."  She said.

"Did Tom fight back?"

"No, ma'am.  Bobby started it. He always starts it."

"Bobby, I think I have no choice but to send you to another orphanage." Miss Smith said sternly.

"What?" he gasped.  "But Tom--,"

"You have been pestering Tom for years and he has done nothing to you. You will be leaving tomorrow."  She looked at Ned and Patrick. "And as for you two, I hope you won't pick up where Bobby left off.  Understand?"

"Yes," they said in unison.  

"Now everyone wash up," she said. "Time for dinner."

People started to walk out of the room but Bobby and his cronies stayed behind.  Sarah took Tom's hand and walked with him downstairs.

"Tom, are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure," Tom answered.  "Bobby won't be here to tease me anymore."

"No, I didn't mean about that," she said.  "I mean…what happened when you went to see your friend.  You said you were going to be there for the rest of the summer but you came back early.  Did something happen?"

"I asked Alaric's father if he'd adopt me," Tom explained, "he said yes—but when he found out my father was a muggle—he said no and told me not to speak to Alaric again."

"What? That is so cruel!" Sarah gasped.  "You and Alaric are friends!"

"It's not going to keep me from talking to Alaric," Tom insisted.  "I'll still see him at school and we're both in Slytherin House.  We eat at the same table.  How am I supposed to avoid him when I see him all the time?  Alaric's my friend—and—he's the sanest person in the family."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Alaric's father—he's insane, Sarah," Tom said with a slight laugh.  "He was obsessed with my mother.  Had a hidden shrine to her through a passageway from his office.  I imagine Darien Malfoy never left my mother alone.  Always following her everywhere she went, asking if he could carry her books for her, probably.  Mrs. Malfoy is also insane.  She has to wear a wig to look like my mother and she doesn't mind it. Serena Malfoy was my mother's best friend.  That's probably why Darien married her."

"I'm sorry, Tom," Sarah whispered.

"Oh, It's okay," Tom insisted.  He didn't want any pity right now.  "I guess I just have to accept it.  No one wants me."  
"Don't say that!" Sarah hissed.  "Never, ever say that!"

"It's true, Sarah," Tom said, "People who don't believe in magic didn't want to adopt me because I was magical, that my mother was a witch.  A wizard didn't want to adopt me because my father was one of those people.  I don't fit in—wherever I go.  I'm just going have to accept it.  I admit it.  No one wants me."

"Tom, if you talk like that, you'll never get adopted!" Sarah insisted.  "Who knows—maybe your father will have second thoughts and come for you!"

"Sarah, be reasonable.  He left before I was even born." Tom muttered. "He's not coming.  If I ever found him and told him who I was, he'd deny me on the spot. I know it."

"You bear his name!" Sarah urged.  "How can your mother just—make it up?"

"Listen, Sarah, if my father wanted me, he wouldn't have left my mother," Tom told her.  "Why would he come for me now?  If he knew I was a wizard, he won't support me.  He didn't support my mother, did he?  He just abandoned her."

"People do change, Tom." Sarah said.  "If you truly believe your father has changed and wants to believe in magic and he's sorry for leaving your mother, then he will.  He'll come for you.  You just need to have faith."

"Faith…yeah…"  Tom mumbled.  "Easier said than done, Sarah."

--

Even with Bobby in another orphanage, Tom still felt miserable with no one to talk to, nothing to do.  Patrick and Ned still teased him now and then but without Bobby to give him commands, they didn't pick on him as much.  Tom went to the stables often and went out on rides to clear his head.  It was weird why he was so good on a horse but he was terrible on a broom.  Could it be just because he worked with them since he was in the orphanage, or did he inherit the ability from someone?  His mother was a witch, was she good on a broom? If she was in Slytherin, then she didn't play Quidditch.  Slytherin didn't allow girls to play on the team but she had to be able to fly, couldn't she?  Maybe she liked to ride horses instead.  There was another explanation, he hated to admit it, maybe he picked it up from his father. Tom didn't know who his father was.  Maybe he was a good horseback rider and loved horses as much as he did.  Muggles certainly couldn't ride a broomstick.  Tom's mind began to wander.  What happened to his mother?  Who was his father she named him from—the man who left her?  Tom was very confused.  Why didn't his mother marry Darien?  He obviously fancied her and wouldn't leave her.  He probably would have her sitting on a pedestal.  Chances were, he might drive her insane like Serena but if Carrie Star had a boy who was crazy about her, why would she pick a boy wanting nothing to do with magic?

--

Carrie Star was a very pretty girl.  Being half veela, she could have any boy she wanted and the boys certainly wanted her.  Many of the girls were jealous of her because of this but Carrie did not want to go to school to be admired. She wanted to learn everything she could so she could make her wizard father proud.  Her veela mother did not stick around very long.  By the time Carrie was old enough to go to Hogwarts, her mother fled with her veela clan, leaving her daughter and husband behind. Veela were like that.  They liked to seduce men, bewitch them and go to bed with them, get pregnant and they might stay a while and then they'd go off with their veela friends to talk and laugh about the men they just seduced. Marvolo Star had to raise her by himself and it wasn't very easy.  He had to be both mother and father and he had to work harder at his job in the ministry.  Marvolo instructed his daughter to find a boy who was pureblood, having two magical parents, with money up to the eyeballs and having looks good enough to kill.  But Carrie didn't want to marry for money, or for looks or because the boy was pureblood.  Carrie wanted to marry for love.  She wanted someone who would want her for who she was, not because she was half veela and was so beautiful.  Things got worse year by year when she developed her body and the boys went crazy, asking her out, giving her flowers and pleading if they could do anything for her.  It made Carrie mad.  She just wanted to learn.  But in their fourth year, when the Yule Ball was coming up, all the boys in Slytherin, even those too young to go, were asking Carrie to the ball left and right.  It made Carrie not even want to go to the ball.

 "Carrie, if you're not going with anyone and since I'm not going with anyone, you want to go to the ball with me?"

"Uh—who are you?" Carrie asked. "You're in my Runes class, right?"

"You take Runes?"

"No…." and Carrie fled quickly every time. She went straight toward the girl's dormitory where it would be safe.  

"I think half the school asked me to the ball today!" Carrie cried.  "It was bad enough people asking me to read their palms!

She fell on her bed and Serena Snape, her best friend, a pretty brunet nudged her.

"Carrie, something came for you!" Serena exclaimed.

Carrie groaned and turned over.  "What is it?"

"A package. It's from Darien."

"From Darien?" she demanded.  "Why won't he leave me alone?" 

Carrie leaned forward and unwrapped the package anyway. She might as well and see how much he spent on her.  She found a very nice dress made out of silk.

"That is so gorgeous!" Serena gasped.

"Oh no…" Carrie moaned. "He asked me to the ball and I told him I had nothing to wear…now I _have_ to go with him!"

"Didn't you see this coming?"

"How can I?" Carrie demanded. "I can't concentrate with all these boys following me around!  I might as well put it on and go with him.  I want to _die…_"

The ball was worse than Carrie imagined.  Darien wouldn't stop holding her hand or take his arm away from her waist and was dancing with her with all the songs and hurrying to get her drinks.  He always asked her if her inner eye saw that they'd be together forever and she always answered no. He probably thought she'd change her mind or didn't hear her because he would continue to ask her.  When it was getting too hot, he escorted her outside for some air and to look at the stars.

"Do the stars say anything about our future, Carrie?" Darien asked wistfully.

Carrie groaned and looked up.  She might as well play along.  "Let's see…well…you're a Sagittarius, right?"

"No, I'm a Pisces."

"Oh, right…Sagittarius is my sign."  She looked back up the stars.  "Uhh...no  I don't' think so."

"Why not?"

"The stars say no match, Darien.  Sorry. But...we can still be friends."

"Okay," Darien mumbled.

"Hey…the stars say you will be very compatible with my friend Serena."

"Serena?"

"Yeah…why don't you go and ask her to dance?" Carrie asked.  "She didn't have a date.  Would you ask her, please, Darien?  It would mean so much to me."

"If it's that important to you," Darien said, bowing, "I'll do it!"  He fled off inside to find Serena. Carrie, finally rid of the dolt, leaned back.

"Finally…I've got him out of my hair."

But she didn't get to relax long.  About five boys came toward her, asking her to dance or what the stars said about their future.  Carrie so wished to disappear right then and there.__

--

Another year at Hogwarts was coming for Tom and he did all his shopping for his second year by all his lonesome.  Then he saw Alaric at Diagon Alley was relieved.

"Alaric!" he cried out.  "How are you?"

Alaric waved and rushed to him.  "Hey.  Did you get all you need for Hogwarts?"

"Yeah," Tom replied.  "Where's your dad?  You're not supposed to be speaking with me. You'll get in trouble."

"So he'll cut my allowance," Alaric muttered, waving his hand.  "I can deal getting a few Galleons less each week.  Besides, he's down in Knocturn Alley.  He doesn't have a clue I'm here."

"Knocturn Alley?"

"Yeah, my dad goes there a lot." He explained.  

"Where's your mother?" Tom inquired.

"She's in Flourish and Blotts buying my new books."  Alaric replied.  "Let's go get a couple of ice cream cones.  I'm starved."

"But I have only a couple of sickles left," Tom mumbled.  "I could go back to my vault--,"

Alaric let out a throaty laugh.  "Don't worry, Tom.  It's on me.  I've got plenty of money."

"Okay. Lead the way."

The two boys went to the ice cream shop and Alaric bought two double-scooped ice cream cones.  For Tom, a scoop of chocolate and vanilla and for Alaric, a scoop of butter pecan and cherry. They sat at the booth to enjoy their ice cream cones.

"Thanks for the ice cream," Tom said, licking the dripping chocolate from his hand.

"Sure.  Why haven't you owled me?"

"Didn't you hear what your father said?" Tom inquired. "He doesn't' want you writing me.  He told me never to write you."

"But I wrote you in the night," Alaric said. "You got my owls, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but, I didn't want you to get in any more trouble."  Tom mumbled.  "I've caused enough damage already."

"Oh, please," Alaric rolled his eyes.  "You didn't tear up the mansion.  You were on your best behavior.  When I invite Crabbe and Goyle over—well—they eat everything and they're well—you know how they are."

"They could probably ride a broomstick better than I can."

Alaric chuckled. "Tom—_you _are even better than Crabbe and Goyle."

"Then they must be _very _bad!" Tom grinned.

"Crabbe and Goyle have no manners…all they do is eat when they come over.  They don't know how to do anything else."

"But they're purebloods," Tom mumbled.

"They look more like trolls than wizards, Tom," Alaric insisted after swallowing a bit of his cherry flavored ice cream.  "Maybe my father will change his mind."

"I don't even think _my _own father will," Tom said.  "It's strange.  Muggles don't want to me to be their son because I'm a wizard and now your father doesn't want me because I'm a half-blood.  I'm cursed."

"Well, he can't keep me from being your friend," Alaric insisted.  "And for a half-blood, you're a pretty good wizard."

"I guess so," Tom mumbled.

"You can be prefect.  I'm sure you will be.  Then my dad will be so sorry he didn't adopt you."

"Will that be enough?" Tom inquired.

Alaric shrugged, "if not, you'll still be a good wizard and you get to tell all the lower classmen what to do!  Why don't you go for it, Riddle?"

"I guess I will."

"You can be Head Boy too!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Tom said.

Alaric was just finishing up his ice cream and the boys were conversing when an angry man walked inside.  "Alaric Terrence Malfoy!"

{Author's note: Hey, his initials are ATM!  Heh!  I think it fits because he's got a lot of money!  I crack myself up…}  
Alaric dropped his ice cream cone and stood up.  "F-father."

"What have I told you about talking to this half-blood?" Mr. Malfoy demanded.  He noticed the ice cream cones. "You bought him ice cream? With _your _allowance?"

"I have to spend it on something!" Alaric shouted.

"Look, I'll pay you back," Tom began, reaching into his pocket.

"No, forget it, Tom," Alaric insisted.  "Finish your ice cream."

"Come, Alaric," Mr. Malfoy ordered.  "We are going now."

"See you at school," Alaric whispered to Tom, leaving with his crazy father.

"Bye," Tom said, watching him leave. A girl working at the shop got down and started to clean the mess up.  "Here, let me help you.  I can pay for it."

"Don't worry about it," she said, "it happens all the time."

Tom sank down in his chair and finished his ice cream.  Not only he couldn't be brothers with Alaric, but he couldn't be friends with him either.  After he finished his ice cream, he walked out of the shop and left Diagon Alley, alone.

--

His second year at Hogwarts went as well as the first.  Tom did well on all of his subjects and since Mr. Malfoy wasn't there to breath down Alaric's neck, Tom and Alaric talked and played like brothers usually do.  Still, his mind was flooded with nightmares. Nightmares of his father leaving his mother, living at the orphanage, Mr. Malfoy telling him he wasn't going to raise a half-blood in his pureblood home.  No matter where Tom went, no matter whom he talked to, no one wanted him.  At the end of his second year and it was time for the second years to pick out two new classes for their third year, Tom wasn't sure what to pick.

"Don't take muggle studies," Alaric said. "You really don't need that."

"Yeah," Tom agreed.  "I've been with muggles long enough and I don't need to take it to know why my no good muggle father left my mother."

His hand clenched tightly on the paper.  All of the new subjects sounded interesting and he wanted to try them all bt he could only pick two, or could he?

"Alaric, can I try more than two?" Tom asked.

"You are going to be in more than one class at once?" Alaric demanded.  "Don't be crazy, Tom. How are you going to take on so many classes with the required classes we're already taking?  Those are enough if you ask me."

"I'm going to talk to Professor LeStrange," Tom said, standing up.  "Maybe he can figure it out for me."

"Well, good luck."  Alaric said, watching him leave.

As Tom walked out of the Great Hall, he nearly bumped into Professor Dumbledore.  

"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore," Tom mumbled, unable to look up at his bright eyes.  Why did Dumbledore scare him so bad?  He was a nice enough wizard and he made Transfiguration a fun class and hardly gave too much homework.

"It's all right, Tom," Dumbledore said, watching Tom walk out of the Great Hall.

Tom hurried down to the dungeons and knocked on Professor LeStrange's office door.  "Professor LeStrange?"

Professor LeStrange opened the door and invited him in.  "Ah, Mr. Riddle, what can I do for you?" Professor LeStrange was always kind and spoiling to those of his house.

Tom sat down.  "About the classes I need to take next year, I want to take more than two," Tom replied.

"With the work you already need to do?" Professor LeStrange inquired with laugh.  "Now Tom, you are a brilliant boy, maybe the most brilliant of my house but it will be quite a challenge."

"I don't want to take muggle studies," Tom said. "I know enough about them."

"Oh, of course.  I don't' see why we have it here at Hogwarts anyway."

"I want to take every thing else." Tom said. "Runes, Arithmancy, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures."

"All that?"

"They sound interesting.  I want to know what I'm good at."

"Well, Tom, let me explain what they are," Professor LeStrange began. "It's obvious what Care of Magical Creatures is, but it is more than just reading about unicorns, you know.  Professor Moon will have the creatures there and you have to feed them, study them and everything.  You want to do that?  It's tough work, especially if there is a creature that is hard to handle."

"I love animals," Tom said.  

"I'm sure you do." Professor LeStrange smiled.  "Divination is an interesting subject but it is quite difficult if you don't know that art."

"My mother got an Inner Eye award," Tom said.

"Yes, I know," Professor LeStrange nodded.  "Arithmancy and Runes are the most difficult courses.  Arithmancy is like mathematics in the magic world."

"I'm good at arithmetic," Tom insisted.  "I studied algebra and geometry while at the orphanage."

"Ah.  Good.  But Runes…must be the most difficult class.  You need to study different symbols and know what they are."

"I'm willing to try," Tom said.  "And I have a good photographic memory."

"You really want to take these four new classes in addition to your own?" Professor LeStrange questioned.

"Yes sir."  Tom said firmly. He wasn't going to let anyone talk him out of becoming the most educated student of Hogwarts, even his head of house.

He smiled.  "Well, then. There may be a way."

"How?"

"With a time turner, of course," Professor LeStrange replied.  "I will need to get one from the Ministry of Magic and tell them you are a very good student."

"I am."

"Of course you are, my boy," Professor LeStrange nodded.  "You get full marks in Potions.'

"You give full marks to everyone in Slytherin, Professor," Tom said.

"Indeed," Professor LeStrange said.  "Oh, and if this does work out, I won't give you any Potion homework, so you can work on your other subjects."

"But Professor, you don't' ever give homework to students of your own house," Tom said.  

"Ah yes, but they don't need it," Professor LeStrange said.  "Now off your first lesson.  I will let you know when I get this worked out with the Ministry."

"Thank you, Professor."

A week before the second year ended, Professor LeStrange was able to get the Time Turner and he gave it to Tom in after a potion lesson.  As Tom was getting his books, Professor LeStrange approached him.

"Mr. Riddle," he began and he eyed Alaric.  "Mr. Malfoy…"

"Alaric, go on," Tom said, "I need to talk to Professor LeStrange."

"Okay," Alaric said, "I'll wait for you outside."

Professor LeStrange waited until everyone left and he took out a chain with an hourglass hanging from it.  "Here is the Time Turner," he said.  "It took a some convincing, but the Ministry agreed to letting you use this to take your extra classes.  I must advise you to not use it for anything else.  Don't change the past or venture fifty years from now to know what's going to happen—and with your divination class—I don't think you'll need to!"

"Thank you, Professor," Tom said, taking it and putting it underneath his shirt.

"It's best that you don't tell anyone about it," Professor LeStrange advised.  

"No one?" Tom inquired.  "What about my friends?"

"No one, Mr. Riddle," he insisted.  "Each turn is an hour.  Here are the instructions."  He handed him a piece of parchment.  "Now hurry to your transfiguration lesson unless you want to try the Time Turner out now."

"Thank you, Professor," Tom nodded and he walked out of the dungeon room where Alaric was waiting impatiently for him,

"What did he want?" Alaric demanded. "Is he going to adopt you?"

"I wish," Tom replied.  "Come on, let's get to Transfiguration or Dumbledore will turn us into rotten eggs…"

To Be Continued 


	9. Fear and Anger

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 9

**Anger and Fear**

{AN: Yes, I know, I decided to put Marcus in as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  I was so used to using him in my other fanfics.}

Tom waited until he got his next letter for Hogwarts telling him what he'd need for his third year at Hogwarts.  Because he was taking extra classes, he was going to have to buy extra books and equipment.  But he was saddened when Sarah got no letter.

"Why can't _I _go to Hogwarts, Tom?" she asked.  "I want to go too."

"Perhaps you will next year," he said.  "You've got to be eleven."

"I turn eleven in November," she mumbled.  "Can't I still come?"

"You'd have to be a freak like Tom, Sarah," Patrick muttered.  "You _sure _you want to go to that school?"

"Yeah, what's so great about some wizard school anyway?" Ned demanded as they went to the stairs.  

"You take that back about my school!" Tom jumped up.  "At least I'm smart enough to learn things, you blockheads!"

"Oh, what are you going to do to us, poke us with your little stick?" Ned demanded, laughing.

If Tom had his wand on him now except for locked up in his trunk, he would've hexed Ned immediately.  But he didn't' have to.  Just as Ned lifted his foot to step onto the landing, next step, it disappeared.  Ned lost his balance and fell down the stairs.  

"Ned!" screamed Patrick from the top of the stairs, hurrying down to him.  Tom gasped and stared.

"Tom, you killed him! You killed him!"

"It was an accident," Tom said, walking to Ned's prone body.  "I didn't mean to…"

"You killed him!"

"You know what happens when you make Tom mad, Ned!" Sarah snapped. "He can't help it. He only meant to scare Ned, not kill him…but I don't' think he's dead."

"Not dead? Look at his neck! It's broken!"

Indeed, his neck did look broken and he was lying in a very uncomfortable position.  

"It was an accident," tom mumbled, shaking as he leaned against the wall.  "I didn't mean for it to happen.  Ned, I'm sorry…Patrick—you guys were my friends. I'd never mean to kill you. "

 Everyone walked down to see what had happened.  Miss Smith screamed and some of the girls turned away.

"What—what happened here?" Miss Smith demanded. "Explain yourselves!"

"It was Tom." Patrick said.  "He—he used his magic on Ned.  Killed him!"

"I didn't mean to. I swear I didn't mean to!" Tom shouted.  "It was an accident…an accident."

"Sarah, did you see what happened?" Miss Smith asked.

"Ned said something about Tom's school," she replied. "It made Tom mad.  That's when Tom does things…he can't help it."

"Look at Ned's neck…" said a girl, squatting over him.

"Hey, look, he's breathing!" exclaimed Lisa. "He's not dead, see?" 

"No way," said Patrick, "he broke his neck…I heard it snap."

Ned opened his eyes.  "W-what, what happened?"

"Ned, you fell down the stairs," said Sarah.  "When you said something about Tom's school."

"I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you, Ned," Tom said, who was shaking.  "I can get expelled for this…please…don't let the ministry know.  It was an accident."

Ned sat up and got to his feet. "I did what?  I don't even remember."

"We thought you were dead," said Sarah.  "It's a miracle."

Tom had no idea his anger caused one of the children to die, but his fear caused him to come back to life. Tom knew his anger would cause something else like that to happen so he did his best not to show his anger or fear, so inside him, he let it fester and stir.  Whenever Ned and Patrick said something rude about him or his ability, Tom forced himself not to get angry and just ignored it.  But in his dreams, he could not hide from it.  Tom did not know there was a dark side to him.  He had two personalities.  On the surface he was a smart thirteen year old but deep inside him, there was a monster feeding on his anger and fear, wanting to do bad things to people.  When Tom slept, this monster was awake, haunting his dreams.  

Tom was dreaming that he was running through a dark forest, trying to get away from something that was chasing him. He was too afraid to look behind him.  The voice was high and cold, hissing like a snake.  It kept laughing and calling him by name.

"Tom…Tom Riddle…where are you going?  You know you can't hide."

"Go away!" Tom shouted, jumping over a log.  "Leave me alone!"

"Why don't you turn and fight me then?" it demanded, laughing.  "You afraid? You are, aren't you? Afraid of what you can become?"

Tom tripped over something.  Snakes slithered on the ground, waving their tongues at him and hissing, speaking.

"Heir of Slytherin…"

"Just leave me alone!" Tom pleaded.  "Please!"

The cold laughing continued. It was all around him now.  

"Stop! Stop!"

"Why do you keep your anger inside, Tom?" it demanded.  "You have great potential, you know."

"I almost killed someone!" he gasped. 

"The fool deserved it."

"I don't' want to be a killer!  I didn't want to kill Ned.  I just want him to leave me alone!"

"Oh, you took pleasure when he fell down those steps and heard his neck crack. Don't deny it."

"I didn't take any pleasure!" Tom shouted.  "I thought I seriously killed him!  But it was an accident!"

"Tom, Tom, Tom.  You wanted him to be dead.  You were mad that he got up and his neck was healed.  You wanted him dead."

"No. That's not true!"

"Really?" the voice laughed again.  "You will some day…the pleasure you take when killing muggles and mudbloods.  You shall see, Tom, the sort of power you can have.  You can be great; you know…you're already in Slytherin. You're the heir of Slytherin.  You are a Parselmouth. You are a brilliant student. You will be taking extra classes this year.  You are half way there, Tom. But you must do more.  Find the chamber of secrets, let the beast out and _kill _all the mudbloods infesting Hogwarts!"

"No! That would be wrong.  I just want to go to Hogwarts and become head boy and get a job at the ministry—that's all!"

"That is not enough for the Heir of Slytherin!" the voice shouted, now taking a dark shape in front of him.  "You will become the greatest wizard in the world! You shall rule the world!  The world will be in your hands. You have the potential, the power!"

"Rule the world, are you crazy?" Tom cried.  "That's wrong!"

"Tom, you cannot deny your true identity," the voice said.  "Why bear the name of the muggle father who left you?"

"My mother named me."

"She was dying.  She didn't know what she was doing."

"I don't want to kill anyone. I don't.  I can't find the chamber of Secrets.  I even looked…"

"Yes, you wanted to let out the creature, didn't' you?" it asked excitedly.  "You wanted to purge Hogwarts of those unworthy to study magic."

"I was just curious," he said, "I wanted to know if it was real or not…but it's probably just a legend."

"Legend! It is true! Deep in the school there is a creature waiting for you to set it free!  You can control it. What are you waiting for? An invitation? You already have one!"

"Who are you? Why are you telling me this?" Tom demanded.  "Why don't you leave me alone?"

"I'm you."  The figure was wearing a black cloak.  There were deep read eyes shining in the hood.

"No…I don't believe it!"

"I'm what you can become."

"I don't want to become you—you're a monster!"

"You have the potential…why don't you go for it.  Are you scared?"

"Yes…I guess I am!" Tom shouted.

"You will become the best wizard of the world," the figure circled around him.  "All you have to do is allow me to use your body…so you are weak and scared…not to worry…I'll be there to give you the strength you need."

"I'm not going to do it!"

"You have no choice," the figure growled. 'You cannot change who you are.  You are the Heir of Slytherin.  You are destined to kill all the mudbloods and muggles in the world.  Then you will be the greatest man."

"I see nothing great about that!"

"You will, Tom.  Soon you will see how great it feels when you kill someone. The power…oh the power Tom…"

"Leave me!" he sat down on the ground and put his hands on his ears, closing his eyes. "Leave me!"

"I will stay in your subconscious mind forever, Tom," the monster stepped behind him and grasped his shoulders and leaned close to him, his cold voice making him shiver.  "You cannot get rid of me.  Because I exist in you…I _am _you."

"NO!"

Tom sat up and threw the covers off him.  He was in a cold sweat.  He never had a dream like that before.  He suffered from nightmares but not like this.  This was worse about dreaming the time his mother died.  Tom got up.  He felt sick.  He ran to the bathroom to throw up.  He flushed the toilet, leaned back, covered his ears and squatted down on the floor.  His leg was shaking.  Tom could still hear the voice laughing in his head.  

Tom pulled himself up and looked in the mirror. He looked horrible and pale. He rinsed his mouth out and splashed cold water on his face.

"Just a dream, Tom," he said to himself. "Just a dream…just a dream."

"Tom, what's the matter?" Sarah asked, stepping to the door.  

Tom flinched in surprise. "Sarah—did I wake you?"

"I had to use the bathroom as all," she said. "Drank too much water last night."

"I'm done now," Tom said.  "You can use it."

"You don't look so good, Tom," Sarah said, walking closer.  "Are you all right? Are you sick? Do you want me to get the nurse?"

"I'm fine," Tom said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."  He lied.  

Sarah stood, looking unconvinced.  She noticed Tom's leg shaking.  He was running his hands through his hair nervously.  

"Tom…you're shaking.  You look awful.  Was it a nightmare?"

"I told you I'm fine!" he barked, his handsome yet sickly face twisting in rage.  "Let it alone!"

Sarah gasped and stepped back in surprise. "Tom—I—I'm sorry…"

Tom frowned.  He never, ever yelled at Sarah before. "Sarah, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. I know you meant well.  I will go back to bed now."

"All right then, good night, Tom."

Tom shuffled down the hall to the boy's quarters; Sarah looked back at him and went to use the bathroom. She smelt the faint smell of vomit in the air.  Tom was lying.  He wasn't all right at all.

--

Tom's nightmares did not seem to stop. Every night it was the same. He was running from the laughing monster, insisting he should give into his anger and telling him to live up to his Slytherin potential.  Sarah noticed Tom was not doing well but she kept her mouth shut and did not ask him how he was.

He bought all of his new books but he was running out of money.  While fishing for more galleons, Alaric dropped the money Tom needed on the shelf in Flourish and Blotts.

"Alaric…thanks."   Tom muttered.  "But you didn't…"

"Here," Alaric took a nervous glance behind him and stuffed a bunch of coins in his hand.  "You should get new robes too.  Those are getting small. Grown a bit, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Tom mumbled.

"I'm going to join the Quidditch team this year," Alaric whispered. "I ought to go look at the Quidditch supply store before my father comes looking for me.  I'll see you on the train, he can't bother us there."

"Yeah, see you and thanks, Alaric."

Alaric smiled and stepped out of the bookstore.  Tom sold his old robes to the second hand robe store then went to get a new set of longer robes to go with his height.  Tom was now 5'9" and he was still growing.  When he started at Hogwarts, he was 5'6".  When he stepped out in his new, better-fitted robes, he waked by the Quidditch Supply store. Alaric and his parents were not there, so it was safe for him to enter.  He wasn't a real Quidditch fan, and not the best flier, but what would it hurt in looking at the supplies?

Tom walked in, skimmed through the titles of books, tried on Quidditch gloves and looked at the latest racing brooms.  Alaric was going to be in the Quidditch team next year.  Tom thought he should give it a try. So what if he was going to be taking four new classes?  He wanted to spend more time with Alaric.  Tom could be the new Seeker. All he needed was a safe broom.

"Can I help you son?" said the manager.

"I, uh, yes…I'm thinking of starting Quidditch next year and I need a broom," Tom said.  "What is your safest broom?"

"That would be the Oakshaft 79," the manager responded, leading Tom to the brooms and picking up a broom with a thick handle. "Best for endurance flying and withstanding high winds.  Not the greatest for Quidditch, however."

"That's all right," Tom said. "I just don't want to fall off."

"What position are you trying out for anyway?" the manager asked.

"Seeker," Tom answered.

"Seeker?" he gasped.  "And you want to use an Oakshaft?  No, no, boy, you should try a swifter broom. Why not the Comet 140? Or a Cleansweep?"

"Oh, I've tried those," Tom said.  "I'm terrible on them."

"Well, you don't have the build for a Seeker," said the manager, looking over Tom's thin and tall frame.  "I'd say…you'd make a good Keeper, or a Chaser."

"But our team Seeker graduated last year," Tom replied.  "I want to fill the position."

"You sure you don't want to look at anything else?"

Tom glanced at the price of the other brooms and at the Oakshaft 79.  He had just enough money for it.

"I'm sure."

"Very well…good luck, I suppose."

--

Tom told Alaric his intention to play Seeker for the Slytherin team when he got on the train.

"Seeker?" Alaric asked. "But you're horrible at flying! You've got to be very fast to play that poison!"

"Yes, but I got a good broom," Tom said.

"Really? What is it?"

"An Oakshaft 79," Tom replied.  

"An Oakshaft 79?  Are you crazy, Tom?" Alaric demanded. "You can't play Seeker on a broom like that.  You need a fast broom.  Oaksthaft 79's are good if you're flying across countries but not for Quidditch!"

"Well, I'll try it out," Tom said.

"You sure you want to be Seeker?" he asked.  "Because, I wanted the Seeker position. I've been practicing at our private Quidditch field all summer.  I got a new broom and everything."

"I just want to be on the team," Tom said.

"Well, good luck then," said Alaric, "but aren't you going to be taking extra classes this term?"

"Yeah, so? All the third years are."

--

They arrived for the sorting and instead of watching it; Tom was reading his Divination book.

"Tom, you're missing it," Alaric said, nudging him.  "Hey, divination, I'm taking that one too!"

_"_Rubeus, Hagrid," said Dumbledore and the biggest boy, built like Crabbe and Goyle, only bigger, walked to the stool and sat down.  He had beetle black eyes, black hair and a big grin on his face.

"He's going to break it," said Alaric.  

Dumbledore put the hat on his head and instead of falling over his eyes like it did to all the other first years; it fit just fine on his large head.

_"Ah, interesting,_" said the Sorting Hat, "_you are a very strong person.  Very caring and kind."_

"Oh, shucks," Rubeus' large cheeks went pink.

"Slytherin is definitely not the place for you, though you may look quite threatening. I'm sorry to say you're not smart enough for Ravenclaw.  I see that you are very loyal and Hufflepuff may soot you well.  But you are very brave.  Plenty of courage.  You're not afraid of dangerous animals. You think of them as pets.  Now…where to put you, let's see now…Ah, perfect, I know…"

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Rubeus gasped in surprise and the front stool leg broke.  He scrambled back to his feet.

"Sorry 'bout that," he muttered, "I'm…big fer me age."

"Not to worry," Dumbledore said with a wink. "I can fix it."  He pointed his wand to the broken leg and mended it and called the next student to be sorted.  Rubeus went to the Gryffindor table and got a warm welcome.  

"Anyone of yeh see a dragon?" Rubeus asked the person sitting next to him.

Tom got his schedule the day of lessons and Alaric looked at it.  "Whoa, wait a second, Tom.  You have two classes at the same time!  How are you supposed to do that?"

"Don't worry, Alaric," Tom insisted.  "I have it worked out with Professor LeStrange."

"What did he do?" Alaric inquired, "Clone you?"

"I guess you can say that."

"Tell me."

"I can't, Alaric.  I'm not supposed to tell anyone.  Well, it's time for me to get to divination."

"But how—you have Arithmancy at the same time!"

"I'll talk to you later, Alaric," Tom said.  "See you in potions."

"But—Tom—hey—wait a second!"  Alaric did not know that Tom was using a Time Turner so he could take these extra classes.  Tom really liked using the Time Turner too.  His homework was tripled but he didn't care.  He wanted to be the best he could be.  By time Quidditch practices started, Tom almost forgot about meeting with the captain so he could try out for the new seeker.

"Oh, Quidditch practice, I forgot!" he exclaimed, slamming his book. 

"Shh! Be quiet, Mr. Riddle!"  The librarian hissed.

"Sorry," he mumbled, grabbing his stuff and putting in his bag.  He rushed out of the library, tossed his bag into his trunk and took out his Oakshaft 79. He made it just in time to the Quidditch field where the Slytherins were starting practice.

"There you are, Tom," said Alaric.  "Where've you been?"

"The—library," he gasped, leaning forward to catch his breath.

"You really shouldn't be taking all those new classes," Alaric insisted. "You just needed to take two, not four."

"All right, Riddle," said the Captain, "Malfoy here says you're going to try out to be the Seeker. Is that true?"

"Yeah," Tom replied.

"Well, let's see what kind of broom you've got then."

Tom held out his Oakshaft 79.  The Captain snorted.  "An Oakshaft 79!  Riddle, how do you expect to catch the Snitch with this stupid broom?"

"The Oakshaft is not a bad broom, Hudson," Alaric piped up.  "Jocunda Sykes flew over the Atlantic Ocean on an Oakshaft 79.  You can't do that with most brooms."

"Well, Malfoy, Riddle's not going to fly over water, is he?" Hudson demanded. "Are you even good on a broom, Riddle?"

"He fell off a broom at the first flying lesson" snickered Flint.

"Shut up!" Alaric exclaimed.  "Why don't' you just see how he flies before you judge him?"

"Fine, let's see what you can do, Riddle," said Hudson.

Tom mounted his broom, kicked off the ground and took air.  Unlike the brooms he tried at Alaric's mansion, this one seemed to suit him.  He could control it better.  Of course, it wasn't fast broom and he wouldn't be able to catch the Snitch on this, but he wouldn't fall and break his neck.

"Riddle, I think a flying snail just passed you!" Hudson cried.

"Hudson, listen," said Alaric.  "Let him play at the first game.  If he doesn't' catch the Snitch, I'll take his place as Seeker."

"Why don't you just become the new Seeker now, Malfoy?"

"Give him a chance, all right?" Alaric inquired. "I'll pay you ten Galleons."

"Ten?  How about fifty?"

"Thirty."

"Done.  All right, Malfoy.  He'll be our new Seeker—but he had better catch that Snitch or he's off the team, understand?"

"I get it, Hudson."

"Okay, Riddle, you're on the team!" Hudson exclaimed.  

"I am?" Tom landed on the ground.

"Yes.  But if you don't catch the Snitch at our first game, you're out!"

"All right," Tom nodded. "Who are we playing anyway?  Hufflepuff?"

"I wish," he muttered. "We're playing Gryffindor."

Tom hunched as if he was kicked in the stomach. "Gryffindor? What?"

"Yeah.  They're a good team too," he said.  "You've seen them."

"But—their Seeker—is Jacob Potter!" he exclaimed.  "He's so fast!"

"You can back out now if you don't' think you can do it," Hudson shrugged.  "I seriously don't think you can."

"No—no I'll do it.  Anything Potter can do, I can do better!"

"Let's see you prove that at the game, Riddle," Hudson challenged. "You're a good student with the books, Riddle, but flying is not the same."

--

Hudson was right about the difference between the books and flying.  It was hard, nearly difficult for Tom to balance them out.  He was juggling ten different subjects and if he had decided to do Muggle Studies it would be eleven.  On top of that, he had Quidditch Practice and he was in the Dueling Club.  It tired him out and everyone could tell.  But Tom didn't give up. He still pushed himself so he could get the grades, no matter how hard he had to study, no matter how long he had to be in the library. But he wanted to be a Dueling Champion too.  He was pretty good at dueling.  He knew a lot of charms and hexes.  He was a horrible flier however.  Why wasn't he good there?  It wasn't fair. He wanted to be the best in everything, no matter what it took.

He was a nervous wreck by the time the first Quidditch match.  He knew he wasn't going to catch the snitch.  It was so fast and small.  He didn't have very good eye and hand coordination.  

The day of the match came too fast and he was too nervous to eat.

"Eat, Tom, come on," Alaric urged. "Have a bit of toast. You'll need your strength.  How about some waffles? They're good."

"I can't eat," Tom mumbled, playing with his food.  "I'm too nervous."

"Don't worry, Tom," Olive said. "I know you'll do well."

"We have to suit up in a couple of minutes," Alaric noted, looking at his watch. "You ought to have something."

Tom shook his head.  "I'm afraid I won't be able to keep it down."

"Eww," mumbled Olive, pulling his plate away from him.  "Well, let me get that away."

"Thanks," said Tom.  He watched Jacob at the Gryffindor table, happily eating and joking with his buddies.

"You're going to win, Jacob," said his good friend Billius Weasley, "I know you are!"

"Remember how you caught the Snitch last year?" inquired the Gryffindor Team Captain.  "That was brilliant."

"I guess I'm a natural flier," Jacob shrugged with a grin.

"Riddle won't stand a chance!" exclaimed one of the Beaters.  "Not with that Oakshaft 79. It's nothing compared to your Cleansweep One!"

"Yeah, thank the Ollerton Brothers," Jacob nodded.  "Greatest broom makers of the centaury, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, don't mind them," Olive muttered, noticing Tom looking at Jacob.  "So what if he's got a better broom?"

"He's a better flier than I am, Olive," Tom groaned.

"Riddle, Malfoy," said Hudson, "let's get to the locker rooms."

"This will be the day that I die," Tom mumbled, getting up.

"Hold on a minute, Tom," said Olive, taking hold of his collar.  "I want to wish you good luck."

"Why, thanks, Olive," Tom smiled. "I'm really going to need it."

Olive planted her hands on Tom's cheeks and gave him a kiss square on the mouth.  The Slytherin table howled and whistled.

"Good luck," she sighed.

"T-th-thanks," Tom stuttered, breathless.

"Hey—I think I need one too," Alaric said, stepping to Olive, puckering his lips.  
"In your dreams, Malfoy," she muttered.

"Oh, fine, be that way," he said, pulling a still dazed and breathless Tom out of the Great Hall and down to the locker rooms.   Alaric was going to play Chaser.  It was the second position he wanted if he couldn't' be Seeker and he wanted to be on the field with Tom incase something happened.  

Hudson gave the Slytherins his speech and Tom got nervous again.

"You won't catch the Snitch if you're nervous," said Alaric as he put on his Quidditch robes and picked up his broom. It the latest and fastest model, a brand new and polished Tinderblast.  It was a very fast broom, but he should have kept his Comet 140 for a Tinderblast could not out fly a Comet 140.  His father only bought it because it was the latest model, they had the money and his father wanted him to win.  They may have been a very wealthy family, but they didn't have a lot of sense.

"Aren't you nervous?" Tom inquired.

"Just a bit," he answered.  "My father will be watching the game."

"What?" Tom gasped.  "He's here? Your father—Alaric—he wanted you to be the Seeker!"  Now Tom was even more nervous than before.

"Let's go," said Hudson and he led his team out onto the field.  The Slytherin crowd cheered as they walked on and Olive Hornby was shouting and waving for Tom.

Tom grinned and waved back.  "Well, at least I got a kiss before I die."

"You're not going to die, Tom," said Alaric.

The Quidditch referee walked onto the field, holding the Quaffle in his arm.  "All right everyone, on your brooms.  Now," he looked at the Slytherins, "remember this is a game, not a bloodbath."

He tossed the Quaffle in the air and Alaric flew for it.  Tom took air and looked for the Snitch.  

"Good luck, Riddle," said Jacob, nodding pleasantly. "May the best Seeker catch the Snitch."

"Shut up, Potter," Tom sneered.

"What's your problem?" Jacob demanded.  "I was only being a good sportsman. Just because I might be a better Seeker than you does not mean I don't know how to play fair."

"I'm not going to let you beat me, Potter," Tom muttered.  "Anything you can do, I can do better."

"You think you can catch the Snitch with your flying ability?" He questioned, "On _that _broom?  Riddle, I know you're taking four new classes this year. You only need to take two.  You're in the Dueling Club and now you're playing Seeker for your team.  You'll die before you graduate if you keep this up, you know.  You can't be perfect in everything."

"Potter," Tom said sternly, "Shut up and mind your own business."

"Fine," Jacob narrowed his eyes, "get your head smashed in with a Bludger.  See if I care."  

"I'm not going to get hit by a Bludger," Tom said.  "I'm riding a safety broom…"

"Sure," said Jacob.  "All right, Riddle, I'll make a deal with you.  I'll give you a head start to try and catch the Snitch and we'll see how much a Seeker you are."

"I don't need you to do that, Potter."

"Hey, it's just fair."

"So, are you a Hufflepuff now?" Tom demanded.  "You feel sorry for me because my broom is not as fast as yours…or I'm a bad flier?"

"No, it jus won't seem like a real victory to me if you play at your greatest potential," Jacob looked away.  "I'm not going to let you win out of sympathy, Riddle.  Quidditch is more fun when you're playing against a team that's as good as you are.  I know you're not a good flier, so I'm willing to even the odds a bit.  I'll let you chase the Snitch for five seconds. Skill against skill."

"You're bluffing."

"I'm serious, Riddle," Jacob said. "And if you don't believe me, there's the Snitch right now by the goal post.  I'm giving you five minutes to fly toward it."

Tom looked at the direction Jacob was pointing too and there was the Snitch. "The Snitch!" he cried out and flew toward it.  Jacob waited five seconds for him to fly toward it and Jacob took off behind him.

Tom flew to the Snitch but it went around him and changed direction. Tom had to slow down before he could chase it.  Jacob turned easily and kept his arm out as he closed in on the Snitch.

"Oh no don't, Potter!" Tom cried, careening in the air.  "I wont' let you beat me!" 

Nevertheless, as he got so close, a Bludger came flying at hit Tom in the head just as Jacob caught the Snitch.

"Jacob Potter caught the Snitch!" exclaimed the Gryffindor announcer. "Tom Riddle has had it…took a Bludger to the head.  Oh that's got to hurt."

Jacob turned, holding the Snitch tightly in his hand and flew down to Tom.  "Hey, Riddle, are you all right?"

"You cheated," muttered Alaric.

"Cheated?" Jacob demanded. "I gave him a head start catch the Snitch!  He's just not a good Seeker. You know he'd get hurt if you let him play. Why the heck did you let him play?"

"Great work, Potter," said the Gryffindor Captain.  "Wonderful catch."

"Thanks," said Jacob.  "Is Tom going to be all right?"

"What do you think?" Alaric inquired. "The Bludger hit him in the head!"

"He's just knocked out," said Hudson.  "He'll live."

"You shouldn't talk so carelessly about your players, Hudson," said Jacob.  "He could've gotten killed."

"Oh please, it's not that brutal, Potter."

"Tom! Tom!" Olive shrieked, running over to him. "Oh, he's bleeding!"

Professor Dippet conjured a stretcher and the referee lifted him onto it. "We'd better get him to the hospital wing.  It'd be best he doesn't have any visitors for a couple of days."

Alaric watched Tom be carried back to the school. Hudson tapped his shoulder. "Well, Malfoy, it's just like I told you.  He wouldn't' catch the Snitch, so that makes you our new Seeker."

"Alaric, what happened?" Darien Malfoy demanded.  "Why aren't you the Seeker?"

"He paid me thirty Galleons for Riddle to be the new Seeker, Mr. Malfoy," Hudson explained.  "I told him if he didn't get the Snitch, he's off the team."

"You did what, boy?" Darien reared on his only son.  "You spent more of you allowance on that half-blood friend of yours?"

"I was only trying to help him out," said Alaric.

"He is a horrible flier," he muttered. "I saw how he was controlling that broom."

"It was an Oakshaft 79," Alaric explained. "You cant' steer it when you're going so fast."

"Ah, an Oakshaft!" Darien gasped. "Well, that explains it.  Boy doesn't' know a descent broom when he sees one.  I gave you that new Tinderstaff so you could be the Seeker and you damn well use it! I'll give the whole _team _Tinderstaffs!"

"You will, Mr. Malfoy?" Hudson grinned, his eyes glinting.

"Yes, if that will get Alaric to be the new Seeker," he replied.  

"We were going to make him the new Seeker anyway," Hudson scratched his chin, "but I could use a new broom."

"It's done then," said Darien.  "I'll purchase six more polished Tinderstaffs tomorrow morning."

"Great—we got a new Seeker, now we just need a new Chaser," said Hudson.

"Just make sure you get a good one," Darien muttered.  He looked at Alaric.  "Do not embarrass me like that again, you understand?"

"Yes, Father," Alaric mumbled.  

"Now go to the showers."

Alaric, still holding his Tinderblast in hand, bent down to pick up Tom's Oakshaft 79 and went to the showers, hoping that his best friend was going to be all right.

--

 Tom was having the same nightmare, instead, of running away, however, he was flying on the Oakshaft 79.  Bats were flying around him and he was flying into skeleton trees.

"Think you could be a Quidditch player, did you?" said the voice.  "You are wasting your time, Tom. Stick with priorities.  You'll never find the Chamber of Secrets if you're playing Quidditch!"

A Bludger—only except it looked like a skull—came soaring to Tom and bit his shoulder. Tom whelp and kept flying away.

"You could fly faster if you were on a Cleansweep One, half-blood!"

"Leave me alone!" Tom shouted. "Just leave me alone!"

"You can't do Quidditch, half-blood.  Concentrate on the Dueling Club alone so you can practice torturing your enemies."

"I started the Dueling Club so I could protect myself," Tom said, dodging another skull shaped Bludger.  "I didn't get in it so I could hurt anybody."

"Oh, don't you lie.  Admit it.  You wanted to watch your enemies suffer in pain."

"No! That's not true!" Tom urged his broomstick on. "Go away! I don't' want to be a monster!"

"Monster?  What makes you think you're a monster?"

"You are a monster! You want me to become you. I'll never become you. Never!"

"But you will, Tom. You see, you need me. Why do you hide your anger? Why don't you use it?"

"I almost killed someone," Tom said. "I don't' want to kill anyone else."

"You wanted to kill Potter today, didn't you?" the voice demanded excitedly.  "He was making you angry.  He made you look like a fool, offering you a head start to get the Snitch."

"He was being fair," Tom explained. "And he was right. Quidditch is no fun when you're playing against someone that's worse than you.  It's more exciting when you're playing against someone with the same skill."

"Oh, you wanted to get back at him for it."

"I'm just not a good flier, I admit that now."  Tom said.  "I can't play Quidditch anymore. I let my team down. I just wanted to give it a go."

"Why don't you give me a go, half-blood?  Live up to your potential."

"No. No!" Tom shouted.  "I don't want to become a monster. I just want to be a very good wizard. The best I can be."

"But you can if you become me, half-blood.  People will fear you. They'll be too afraid to speak your name.  Don't think you can do it, half-blood?"

"Stop calling me half-blood!" Tom yelled, tears stinging his eyes. "My name is Tom. Got that?  It's Tom Marvolo Riddle!"

"Yes…you carry your father's name. Your muggle father's name, the father who left you."

"So what if he did?" 

"Why don't you pay him back?"

"I don't know who he is," Tom said.  "And he was only scared. Maybe he'll come back for me after he gets over it."

"Kill him, Tom. He deserves it after leaving your mother."

"No! That would be wrong. Two wrongs do not make a right!"

"Who said anything about what's right?" the voice demanded evilly. "This is about what's _good _for you.  After all, half-blood, there is no good or evil.  Only power and those too weak to seek it."

"You're wrong!" Tom shouted.  "You are evil. Evil!  I don't' want to be evil!  I just want to be a great wizard but I don't have to be evil to get there!"

"You will succumb to me, half-blood!" shouted the evil voice.  "One way or another, you will become me. I will take you over and you will see the power you can have.  You cannot fight me forever!"

"Yes I can!" he kept flying. "I'm not going to become you. I don't' care how great you are."

"I'll wait as long as it takes, half-blood."

A giant skull appeared in front of Tom and it opened its mouth.  Tom tried to stop the broom before he collided. He tried to steer but he couldn't.

"You cannot run from it.  You cannot fly from it."

A snake slithered out of the skull's mouth like a tongue and hissed at Tom. The skull laughed and closed its mouth over Tom. Tom screamed and rolled around as the snake started to encircle him, squeezing him. Tom couldn't' breathe.

--

"Tom!" 

"I can't breathe!"

"Wake up, Tom!"

"It's going to get me!"

"I can't breathe.  Cant' breathe. It's choking me."

"That's because your blanket's tangled around you, Tom, wake up!" 

It was Alaric's voice and he was slapping him at the face.  Tom woke up finally, looking around the room.

"Big, big skull!" Tom said, pulling, his covers away that were tangled all around him.  "Had a snake for a tongue. It tried to eat me!"

"It was a dream," Alaric insisted.  "A very scary dream though."

"A monster was chasing me," Tom mumbled. Rubbing his head.  He was sweaty and the bandages around his head were wet.  "It seemed so real.  The same dream I had every night after I lost my temper at the orphanage and nearly killed one of the boys."

"You did what?" Alaric demanded, astounded. "Was it one who picked up you?"

"Yeah, Ned," he replied.  "He said something rude about Hogwarts and, well, you know what happens when something you get angry or scared and, your magic kind of takes over?"

"I know," Alaric nodded.  "Before I went to Hogwarts, I got so mad at one of the houseless that I made him fall out of the window he was cleaning."  

"What I did was worse," said Tom.  "I…almost killed him. The step disappeared. He fell down the stairs and he broke his neck. We thought for sure he was dead, but he just sat up like nothing happened.  I think I got so scared that I fixed his broken neck without knowing."

"Wait a second, you break the boy's neck and then you fix it?" Alaric asked. "Why? After everything he's put you through?"

"Ned is a big bully and I hate bullies," Tom replied.  "I hate what they did to me but I would never kill them for it.  I just wanted to scare him a bit so he would leave me alone.  I mean, the ministry could've sent me to Azkaban. I could've been expelled. This is the only place where I can be happy. So, what happened at the game? Did we win?"

"No, Potter caught the Snitch the same time the Bludger hit you in the head," Alaric replied.  "My father was not very pleased.  He's buying the team new Tinderblasts so I can be the new Team Seeker."

"I guess that's for the best," Tom said. "I don't want to play again anyway or I'll just get smacked in the head with another Bludger.  Where's my broom?"

"I put it in your trunk for you," he answered.

"I want you to burn it."

"Burn it?" Alaric questioned.  "Oakshafts might not be great for Quidditch but they're still useful—I mean, antiques!  Hold on to it for a while and you can sell it for about a hundred Galleons!"

"You do too much, Riddle," Alaric leaned back.  "Taking all these new classes, you're trying to be a Dueling Champion and you signed up for Team Seeker. Not to mention you're the Heir of Slytherin.  That's too much for one person to do. I'm surprised you held up this long. You're good Tom, really good.  But you can't everything.  You're a good wizard Tom, just not a good Quidditch player."

"I guess you're right," Tom mumbled. "I just wanted to give it a go.  I know I wasn't a match for Potter. He's a natural flier.  I wish I knew where he got it.  He's a halfblood too and his father couldn't have been on a broom.  Must've been his mother I guess."

"You can ask him that later," Alaric explained.  "I decided to bring you your homework for you."

"Homework?"

"Yeah. You've been out for a week, Tom."  

"A week?" He gasped. "Why didn't you wake me up before? I'm so behind!"  He attempted to get up but Alaric sat him back down.

"Tom, you'll strain yourself," Alaric said.  "Professor LeStrange didn't give you any homework, so you can catch up."

"No Potion homework?" Tom inquired. "How am I supposed to be a good position master if the teacher doesn't give enough homework?"

"You actually like putting smelly animal body parts in a cauldron?" Alaric demanded, looking sick.

"Potion making is a real art, Alaric."

"Oh, Tom!" Olive ran in holding a few get-well gifts.  She threw her arms around Tom and sobbed. "I was afraid that when you fell…you died…I was so worried!"

"Hey—I almost got hit by a Bludger too," Alaric said hopefully.

"Oh, get lost, Alaric!" Olive said, sniffing and combing back Tom's hair with her fingers.  "Tom, are you going to be all right? How do you feel? You want me to help feed you?"

"Who do you think you are?" Alaric demanded. "Florence Nightingale?"

Olive raised her eyes at him and kissed Tom on the forehead. "I was so worried about you. Does it still hurt?"

"Just a little," he winced.  "Can you straighten my pillow for me?"

"Of course, Tom," Olive said.  Alaric groaned and shook his head.  "I'm leaving your homework right here, Tom. Looks like you want some time alone with your girlfriend here."

"Okay, thanks," said Tom vaguely as Olive sat next to him and massaged his shoulders.  Having his neck and shoulders massaged by the prettiest girl in school was the only good thing about getting smacked in the head with a Bludger.

--

Tom continued to take his ten classes and the Dueling Club throughout the year and so did his nightmare of running from the dark cloaked figure. He never saw its face, just the red piercing eyes.  It never told Tom what is name was. Tom was kind of afraid to even ask.  He knew it would send chills down his spine.  The monster would never leave him alone during his sleep.  When Tom was studying, he was just fine. That was when the monster was sleeping, but when it was Tom's turn to sleep, the monster was awake and pestering Tom.  Tom didn't tell many people about this nightmare, just his closest friends.  

For a Defense Against Dark Arts lesson, Professor Dale, the teacher had the class banish a boggart. 

"Can anyone tell me what a boggart is?" asked the professor.

"It's a shape shifter, Professor," he replied. "It takes the shape of someone's worse fear."

"Correct, ten points for Slytherin," said Professor Dale. "Now, I have here in the wardrobe behind me a boggart.

"You—you have it behind you, Professor?" he asked nervously.

"Yes, now I know you are all scared," Professor Dale explained, "but there is a way to banish it.  When I open the doors, hold out your wands.  The boggart will change into your worse fear and you will have a chance to stop it.  Mr. Riddle, will you come to the wardrobe so we can start?"

"Me? You want me to start?"

"Yes. Don't' be frightened.  Laughter will kill a boggart.  Now tell me, what is your worse fear?"

Tom thought hard. Why, everything from his nightmares of course. He was afraid of becoming a monster.  That creature that is chasing him, that cloaked figure.

"Well, Professor, I am having this reoccurring dream where this black cloaked figure is chasing me."

"A Lethifold?" Professor Dale inquired.

"No," he answered. "It has eyes.  Glowing red eyes. It can talk.  But I never see its face."

"Scary dream."

"But that's not it…I also dream of a giant skull eating me.  It has a snake for a tongue." He answered.  "I don't know which things from my dream is my real fear."

"Well, try to imagine something funny happening to either of them."

Something funny. That was difficult.  Tom looked around and pondered.  Perhaps if the monster took off his cloak and it ended up being a tap dancer that would be all right.  And the skull with the snake tongue.  Perhaps if the skull's bottom jaw fell open while it was trying to tell a joke.  Yes, that might work, but would Tom be brave enough to look at it?

"What's the incantation, Professor?" Tom inquired.

"_Riddikulus,_" Dale replied. "Now, ready?"

"Yes, yes I'm ready, Professor."

Professor Dale opened the door and the black-cloaked figure stepped out, his red eyes glowing. Laughter was coming from underneath its hood. Tom tried to gather up all his courage to shout the incantation.

"R-R-R-R-Rid—Rid—" 

The figure laughed and changed into the skull.  Its laughter became louder.  Tom closed his eyes.

"R-R—Rid—Ridik—Ridik—Riddikulus! Riddikulus!" 

There was a crack and what Tom intended to do, didn't quite happen.  However, he did do something and the skull's two front teeth fell out. Tom sighed in relief and leaned against a desk, feeling light headed.  He felt as if he were about to pass out.

"Good, now Mr. Malfoy?"  

Alaric screamed and ducked behind Tom. "My father told me I'm not his real son!"  
--

The divination professor seemed to know about Tom's dreams and so she presented the crystal ball to the class as the final.

"Your mother was an excellent seer, Tom Riddle," Professor Augury said, her hands moving around the crystal ball. "Let's see if you have the potential."

Tom sat down across from her and nearly fell asleep. "Professor, I can't concentrate with these fumes."

"They are there to help you use your inner eye, dear boy," she said. "Now look into the crystal boy and tell me what you see."

Tom leaned forward.  He didn't see something right away, but then…

"Myself," said Tom.  "I see me."

"Yes, very true. Don't you look handsome?"

"I'm beginning to change," Tom mumbled.  "My face…oh no…my face…"

"What do you see?"

"My face is changing.  My eyes…they're turning red."

He heard the laughter.  _Don't you see, half-blood, it will happen.  You cannot deny it.  You cannot stop it._

Tom stood up. "No! No!  It's the monster from my dream!"

"You dream of this, Tom?" Professor Augury inquired excitedly. "You dream of what you become?"

"I'm not going to become that, that thing!" Tom pointed at the crystal boy.

"How interesting that you see this, Tom," Augury said, "because it is what your mother saw on her Divination final. She saw you, becoming a great wizard.  Very great indeed, people will fear you.  They will be too afraid to speak your new name. The name you will design yourself with the letters of your given name."

"There must be a way I can stop it," Tom said, "Professor, I don't want to become a monster. I just want to be a great wizard.  I want to become a dueling champion. Be Head Boy and get a good job at the ministry—I can be Minister of Magic.  I want people to understand me, not fear and hate me."

"There is nothing you can do about it," said Professor Augury.  "It is your destiny."

"I'm not going to become a monster!" Tom shouted. "No way. I'll fight it, you hear?  I don't want people to hate and fear me.  People _already _hate and fear me!  This divination nonsense is insane. It might have been for my mother, but it's not for me. I'm quitting this class."

"You fear your future, Tom, but it is what you will become if you still try to be great."  Augury insisted.  "You see, Tom, you don't want to become this monster, but you also want to be great.  You care more about being great than not becoming this monster you're afraid of.  You should stop trying to be so great now, for your own sake if you wish to be safe."

"I don't _need _this class," Tom muttered.  "I _already_ know I'm going to be great.  You'll see.  I'll become prefect, I'll be Head Boy and I'll graduate at the top of my class!  I'll make more O.W.L's than anyone here.  I'll become the Minister of Magic but I won't, I WON'T become the most evil sorcerer in the world!  I'm going to be great someday, but I wont' be a killer."

"But Tom, don't' you see?" Augury said, "One thing will move to another.  When you first came to Hogwarts, you wanted to be prefect. But it wasn't enough.  You wanted to be Head Boy. Then you wanted to become a Quidditch player.  You say you want to become the Minister of Magic, but will that be enough to fill your hunger for greatness, Tom?  You will seek, and seek, and seek, but whatever you do, will not be enough.  You will be hungry for power forever."

"No," he mumbled. "You're mad.  I'll be happy with being the minister of magic. I don't need to be a killer to be great.  Once I'm Minister of Magic I won't need anything else.  I'm not taking this divination class anymore.  I'm allergic to these fumes! I already know I'm going to be great. I don't' need a stupid crystal ball or tealeaves to tell me that!  You see, I'll be content once I become Minister of Magic. You're wrong Professor.  I thought I needed to take all these classes so I could become great, but I don't really need them all. I just wanted to see where my strengths are.  I don't' need this class.  I can quit, see?  I wanted to be a great Seeker, but I don't have the school. It's all right.  Potter's a better flier than me but I have him beat at other things.  I'm not so power hunger as you think I am, or the monster from my dream.  I'll fill my thirst after I graduate.  Once I become Minster of Magic, I don't need anything else! I believe in myself and that's all I need!" Tom turned to the door and climbed down the ladder.   

"It's wrong," Tom muttered to himself as he stepped down to the dungeons, making a note of selling his divination book. "I want to be the Minister of Magic, not a monster.  And that's how it's going to happen.  I won't keep seeking power. I don't want power. I just want to be a good wizard.  That's all. That's all I need."

**To Be Continued**


	10. The War

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 10

**The War**

Tom was happy he dropped Divination. It might have been an interesting class but it was not from him, especially after what happened for his final.  For the last part of term in Care of Magical Creatures, they were studying unicorns. The unicorns were skittish around the boys and would only let the girls approach.  Tom knew this was the way unicorns were, but he loved horses and he wanted to ride a unicorn, just once, or at least, touch it.

"They're so beautiful," Tom mumbled. "Look at how they glow."

"Yeah—I wonder if we will use their blood for potion class," Alaric said.

"What?" Tom gasped, turning to Alaric. "Alaric, don't you know that drinking unicorn blood will give you a half life?"

"Yeah, but it can keep you alive," Alaric said as if killing an innocent, beautiful creature were no big deal.  "Even if you're about to die."

"Well, I'd rather die that kill a unicorn," Tom said.  "Besides, how would I kill it if I can't even get close to it?"

"You don't' have to use a knife, you know."

"Alaric, you worry me some times," Tom said.

It was a wonder, how Tom Riddle could be a best friend with Alaric Malfoy. They were complete opposites except for the fact they were both in Slytherin.  Tom was poor.  Alaric was wealthy.   Tom had manners.  Alaric did not.  Tom grew up in an orphanage.  Alaric grew up in a manor.  Tom liked to study and work.  Alaric liked to cheat.  Tom was good with the books. Alaric was good with the broom.  If it weren't for the fact they were both in Slytherin, might have been rivals.  However, even though Alaric sometimes seemed as though he wasn't best friend material, he did respect Tom for what he was when the boys at the orphanage didn't. When Tom needed new robes, Alaric came up with the money for them.  Alaric took him to his home. Tom didn't stay there very long but at least Alaric took the time to invite him.

"Hey, boys," said the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, holding a baby unicorn.  "You can approach the foals.  They'll let you."

Tom grinned and hurried to the foals.  Unlike the adult unicorns, the foals were gold and they were less skittish.

"I still want to ride on one though," Tom said, sitting down on the grass and stroking one of the foals.  

"That's quite difficult, Tom," the teacher explained.  "When a unicorn sees you, it runs away before you can get any closer."

"Why do they fear boys?" Tom asked.  "Do they think boys will hurt it?"

"Yes, correct," the teacher replied.  "A witch has a better chance of approaching a unicorn because most witches are pure…like a unicorn.  It fears that a wizard will kill it for its blood or hair or horn."

"But I would never harm something like this," Tom said.  "I just want to get close enough to it so I could ride it.  I love horses."

"Yes, well, horses are not the same as unicorns, Tom."

Tom groaned. "I guess not."

The baby unicorn started to lick Tom's face. Tom laughed.

--

Tom was dreaming again, but this time, it wasn't about the wizard.  Actually, he was dreaming he was in the forbidden forest, tracking unicorns.  They ran away when he got close enough to them.

"Don't worry."  Tom said. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to touch you."

Tom reached a foal and he got down his knees to play with it. It licked his face and Tom gave a boyish laugh.  Chuckling, he got back up to his knees.  He saw a unicorn standing a few feet away from him.  Tom stood still and didn't make any sudden moves.  

"Hi," Tom whispered. "I know you don't let wizards approach you because you think they'll kill you for magical properties in your blood and horn, but I'm not like other wizards.  I just want to get close enough to touch you and maybe ride you.  Please don't run away."

The unicorn blew air from its mouth, it's lips sounding like a rudder as it brought its head down to the ground and continued to graze.  Tom took a step to the animal.  When it reared its head up, he stopped.  

"Be patient, Tom," he told himself. 

He waited before taking another step, looking into the animal's eyes.  He walked closer, coaxing encouragingly.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Tom reached his hand out. He was getting closer.  He should be careful so the unicorn doesn't run away.  Another step. So far so good. The unicorn showed no signs of running away.  One more step to go.  

Tom reached the animal and started to pet it.  "There now…see? I'm not going to hurt you.  I'm harmless."

Tom grabbed hold of its mane. 

"I wish I could ride you."

The unicorn bent down on its front legs.  Tom laughed.

"Unbelievable."  He pulled himself up and kept hold of the unicorn's mane, using it as reigns to guide it.  He gave a gentle kick in the ribs and it started walking around.

"I'm riding a unicorn," Tom said in disbelief. "I'm doing it…oh, if my other could see me now.  Faster, unicorn.  Faster."

The unicorn's pace increased to a trot.  Tom leaned forward and held tightly on the mane.  Then the unicorn started to gallop. Tom laughed, overjoyed.  He was having so much fun spending time with the animal when he heard a loud noise and something plunge into the animals skin.

The unicorn neighed painfully and Tom fell off.  He tried to get up.

"What happened?" he asked himself, turning around.  "What was that? Oh no!"

The unicorn was neighing in pain. Something had pierced its front legs.  It couldn't move and it fell down.

"No. No!" Tom ran to the animal to look at the wound.  Silver blood poured out of the wound. There was another piercing noise like an arrow and it hit in the animal in the neck.  It neighed and shook its head.  "Don't worry…don't worry!  I can help you. Oh no…it's going to bleed to death."

He tried to keep the unicorn calm by talking to it.  It was breathing shallowly.  Something came up behind Tom and threw him aside.

"What the?" he gasped. He turned and saw the dark wizard bending down to the unicorn, dipping its finger into the wound.

 "What are you doing?" Tom demanded.  "Leave it alone!  What have you done?" 

"Don't you mean what _you've _done?" it said, reaching his finger into his mouth.  "Mmm, unicorn blood.  Tastes wonderful…you can feel it start working.  Care for a taste, boy?"

"No!" Tom shouted. "I'll be cursed once that blood touches my lips!"

"So be it," he said, bending down to lick the blood away from the leaking wound. "But you will some day. You will do anything to stay immortal."

"You're wrong." Tom muttered.  "I will not kill something so beautiful just so I can live for another ten years!  I am in great health anyway."

"Oh, you say that now," said the evil wizard, "but someday, you will find yourself so weak that you'll beg for it."

"You lie," Tom muttered.  "I'd just let myself die."

"You will see, half-blood," the evil wizard continued after taking another lick of unicorn blood.  "You wont' be able to control yourself. You are just now seeing what greatness tastes like. Third year at Hogwarts, taking extra classes, on your way to becoming a dueling champion.  At this rate, you'll be able to apparate in your fifth year.  You want to get another taste of greatness, boy? It's right here.  Drink it up."

Tom clenched his fists. "I'll be happy once I'm Minister of Magic. I won't need to become you."

"That's a lie," said the wizard.  "Don't you see? Once you accomplish one thing, you'll want another, and another, and another.  Minister of Magic would not be enough for you.  You will continue to thirst for greatness.  This is where will end up, half-blood.  You will become me.  It will be better than the Minister of Magic, I assure you."

"I don't want to kill anyone. Not people, not even animals!"

The wizard laughed and went toward Tom. Tom backed up. He grabbed Tom's hand and slapped the unicorn blood on his finger.

"Go ahead, boy. Have a taste…"

"No…you killed that poor creature," Tom insisted. "I will not be able to look at a unicorn again the same way."

"Well, then perhaps you should quit Care of Magical Creatures then, shouldn't you?" he laughed.  "Stick with Runes and Arithmancy.  Those are your strong points, dear boy."

"How would you know?" he demanded. "You don't know me.  Maybe I want to stay with Care of Magical Creatures."

"Boy, I know you more than you can comprehend. Because I _am _you.  I'm you decades from now.  Soon I'll leave your subconscious and I'll take you over. You just wait…now, I'm resting in your soul.  You cant' stop me.  I'm stronger than you are."

--

Tom ended up having to stop Care of Magical Creatures because he became close to tears every time he looked at a unicorn. He couldn't' do it anymore. He could just see the dark wizard bending down the unicorn and drinking its blood.  Tom didn't want to study any more animals because he knows he'll have a nightmare of the dark wizard killing it for its blood too.

Before the End of Term banquet, Tom handed in his Time Turner.  "I can't keep it up, Professor LeStrange." He said, taking the Time Turner off his neck. "It's too hard."

"You did quite well, Tom," said LeStrange, "I'm impressed that you made it this far."

"I'm staying Arithmancy and Runes for now on," he said. "I'm really good at those anyway."

"All right then," he nodded.

"Could you give me more Potions homework, Professor LeStrange?" Tom asked.

"What for?"

"Potion is a real art.  I want to learn all I can about it."

"Oh, very well, I suppose," he replied  "Best be off to the banquet."

Tom went to the End of Term banquet and fell down next to Alaric.  

"Where were you?" Alaric inquired.

"I was speaking to Professor LeStrange," Tom replied, "I dropped Care of Magical Creatures and sticking with Runes and Arithmancy."

"Oh no," Olive gasped.  "Divination and Care of Magical Creatures were the only new classes I had with you!"

"Oh, boo-hoo," Alaric muttered.  "Well, I guess you'll be stuck with me then, Olive!"

Olive folded her arms. "Humph."  
"Don't worry, Olive," Tom insisted. "You'll still me in everything else. Our required classes--Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology…"

"But it's not the same," she frowned."

Alaric chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

--

During the summer, there was a war involving the whole world. Adolf Hitler was declaring war and there were allied forces trying to stop him.  Tom sat in the den with the other children, listening to the radio about the war.  Tom thought about this Adolph Hitler. What was he thinking? Trying to take over the world?  It reminded him so much from the wizard from his dream except Adolf was a muggle. Now the whole world was at war and Tom did not understand why the wizard world did not do anything to help.  Did they not live in the same world together?  

He sat there on the floor, with eleven-year-old Sarah laying her head on his lap.  He was stroking her strawberry blond hair away from her face, thinking he should try to help the muggle world.  All right, so he might get in big trouble for it, but what should he do? Just sit here and listen to the radio about World War II and so many people dying?

True, most people from his house hated muggles and Darien Malfoy surely wouldn't want Tom to talk to Alaric after this, but Tom had to do something.  He looked around the room. Everyone looked so scared and angry. Tom pushed Sarah up from his lap and got to his feet.

"Tom, what are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to the boy's quarters," he answered. "I need to be alone for a while."

Tom hurried up the stairs, opened his trunk and pulled out his Oakshaft 79 and wand. He stuck it behind jeans, opened the window and flew out into the night. He had to help those people. After all, he _was _half muggle.

Tom soared around and he saw the war going on.  Fighter planes going down.  People screaming and running off. One of the Nazi planes prepared to drop a bomb on a civilian building.  Tom raised his wand at it.

"_Transfigurio Aetites!"_

Just as the bomb was about to hit, it changed into a giant eagle.  He flew around, keeping an eye out for any trouble.

"Whoa? What the?" shouted an English air fighter.

"What's the matter, Frank?"

"Something just flew by my plane—looked like some kid on a broom!"

"You're losing it, Bryce."

"I swear—I saw a kid on a broom!" Frank Bryce insisted.  "I saw him!"

"Oh, what a load of—what the!" the other fighter leaned forward.

"See, I told you I saw him!"

"Let's shoot him down!"

"Hey, wait a second, I think he's on _our _side!" said the other fighter.

Another fighter's plane got hit and Tom soared to hit to put the flames out, opened the door and old his hand out.

"Come on!" Tom shouted. "I'll save you!" He grabbed the fighter pilots arm and flew him to safety.  He hearted the shout of machine guns down bellow.  Somebody was being killed.

"No! No!"

Tom flew down but the teargas made it him possible to see. He waved his wand and used a Clearing Charm. He landed, his hand outstretched.  He heard the Nazis talking in German, shooting some of the English army.

Tom ran up behind them. _"Stupefy! Stupefy!"_

The Nazi soldiers were stunned and they fell on the ground. Tom looked for anyone who needed help. Where were all the field medics? So many people were hurt. Dead. He heard someone shouting for help.

"Is there anyone there? Help me. Please."

"I hear you! I hear you!" Tom cried, running to the sound. "Don't worry, I'll help you! I'm coming!"

"I've been shot…can't feel my legs."

Tom found the soldier lying on his back, reaching to him.  Tom gasped and stepped back.

"Oh no…" 

No wonder did the boy was unable to feel his legs. They were blown off.  

"Help me."

"Don't worry, don't worry, I'll help you," Tom insisted. "Just lie back…lie back." Tom looked at the soldier's face and screamed. 

Tom knew who he was. He grew up with him at the orphanage. It was Josh, the only boy that didn't pick on him.

"Josh—hold on—you'll be okay."

"How—how do you know my name?" he asked.

"Josh, don't you remember me?" Tom questioned. "It's me, Tom. Don't you remember me, from the orphanage?  You were adopted a couple years ago, remember?"

"Tom…yeah—yeah, I remember you," Josh said, his voice hoarse. "H-how are you doing?" Long time no see."

"Yeah, I know, sorry…I've been kind of busy," Tom said.  He looked around. Maybe he could try stick his legs back together?  It shouldn't be so hard.  He had a magical wand for goodness sakes.

"Tom…I can't…breathe…"

"Just relax, Josh, relax…I'll think of something…don't worry…oh, healing potions. Why didn't I bring any healing potions?"  
Josh had a coughing fit and blood dribbled from his mouth. Tom didn't know what to do.  He just lifted him up and tried talking to him.

"Hey, stay with me," Tom insisted. "Don't die on me, okay? We got a lot of catching up to do."

"Heh, yeah," Josh mumbled trying to laugh.  "My legs…I can't feel my legs."

He tried to look down but Tom held him back.

"No Josh…no, just lay back."

But Josh saw the blood stained grass where his legs should be and he freaked out. "My legs! I have no legs!"

"Now just calm down," Tom said, almost about to freak out as well. "Josh…don't die on me buddy, why don't you talk to me about your new parents, huh? Josh…"

Josh went into convulsions.  Tom yelled in anger. 

"No…Dammit!"

Josh's eyes rolled back into his head, he took in a breath and he died.

"Josh? Josh?  Josh! No!" Tom threw head back and screamed. "AUUUUGGGGH!"

"Hey, I hear something," said one of the other infantries.  "Let's get a medic over her."

Tom got up to his legs and walked away before anyone else saw him.  Did it make any difference, coming over here?

--

Tom returned to the orphanage smelling like smoke, tear gas and blood.  He sat on his bed, looking as if he were in a trance.  People heard on the radio everywhere about a boy riding on a broomstick.  Believing that it could be Tom, Sarah went upstairs to the boy's quarters to see if he was still there.

"Tom?" she asked. "They're saying on the radio that a boy was riding on a broomstick in the war.  Could that be you? Tom?"

Sarah walked to him. He looked as if he didn't even notice her walk in.

"Tom? Oh Tom, it was you, wasn't it?" She sat down next to him and put her arms around his neck.  He sat there, his arms on his knees, his palms up in the air with unfocused eyes.  

"Tom, you look terrible…what happened?"

"He's dead," Tom mumbled. 

"What?"

"Josh…you remember Josh, don't you?" Tom inquired.  "He was there…in the war.  His legs, they were blown off. I could do nothing to help him. Why, why didn't I try to save him?  I could've created new legs for him. I had my wand on me. I just sat there and watched him die.  I could've done something—I snapped Ned's neck back in place when I accidentally pushed him down the stairs, why, why did Josh had to die?  He wasn't mean to like Bobby or Ned or Patrick."

"Oh, Tom," said Sarah.  "It will be okay."

"Sarah, it was awful, he said. "I hate war…I hate it!"

--

The Ministry of Magic got wind of Tom flying on his broomstick during the war and he had to go and speak to them.

"You were seen," said the Minster of Magic himself, holding up the Daily Prophet, where Tom was flying around on his broomstick. "You used spells, Mr. Riddle. How do you explain yourself?"

"Those people would've died," Tom mumbled. "I had to do something."

"You gave our world away!" 

"The world is at war, Minister!" Tom cried.  "How could you just sit back and watch this all happen?  It's inhuman!  Do you really think that if we keep the magic world a secret everything will be better? My father was a muggle, Minister!  My father! And he left my mother because she was a witch. If he knew already about the magic world, maybe he wouldn't have left.  We should try to get our worlds to coexist.  There are many muggleborns at the school now. Some of those people who died could've been their parents, or relatives!"

"Sit back down, Tom," the Minister of Magic ordered.  

Tom did so, frowning.  "When I become Minister of Magic, things will be different.  Muggles and wizards will coexist.  They'll understand one another.  We can't hide forever. Some day or another, muggles will find out who we are."

"Well, Tom, when you become Minister of Magic, you can do that," the minister of Magic said, "but now I'm the Minister here and what I say goes, understand?"

"Well, what are you going to do then?" Tom demanded.  "Expel me from Hogwarts?"

"Considering you had good intentions, Tom, we'll let you off," he said. "But…something like this had better not happen again. Understand?"

"Yes, Minister," said Tom.

"Good…enjoy the rest of your summer. And no more playing hero."

--

Tom's nightmares had become worse after trying to save Josh.  Bombs were falling all around Tom and there were dying muggles around him.

"Foolish half-blood," said the evil wizard. "Why do you try to help muggles when they hate and fear you?"

"Not all muggles are like that," said Tom.  "Some muggles like magic.  Maybe if my father understood more about the magic world he wouldn't have left."

"You are a fool, boy, trying to save muggles. You are wasting your time."

"I am half muggle," said Tom. "I can't deny it and kill muggles because of what my father did. There are still a lot of good people out there and you want me to kill them!"

"You will kill them, half-blood," said the voice. "You will.  Someday you will see."

"I don't want to kill anybody," said Tom. "It's wrong to kill.  I just want to be a great wizard."

"The only way you'll be great is if you become me."

"But I don't want to be you.  I hate you."

The darker side of Tom Riddle laughed.  "You say that now, but soon, you will be become me.  It will be only a matter of time.  Why try to save muggles?  You know they won't want to live with wizards and witches.  How can they? When muggles can't live together?"

Tom flinched.  The monster laughed again.

"You see? It's true. You know it is true.  After this world war with the muggles, do you think they'll want to share this world with you?"

"Not all muggles are like that.  Just leave me alone."

"I will never leave you alone, boy.  You need me.  As much as you want to deny it, you need me."

"That's a lie."

"Look, half-blood," the cloaked figure pointed behind him.  "Look…you want to see why you're half muggle?  Why your mother chose a muggle?  You want to know the story…look behind you and see."

Tom turned and looked behind him. He saw his mother, probably eighteen, recently graduated from Hogwarts, standing next to a tree and looking at a group of boys playing a sport on horses.  There was one boy he couldn't see very well.  He was blurred out but Tom got the feeling this boy was his father.

**--Carrie's Past--**

Carrie looked on interested at the game they were playing. The only sport she was familiar with was Quidditch. 

"Muggles are such interesting people," she said to herself, watching on with a smile.  She was wearing a muggle style of attire, a soft green sundress and sunhat

A very good-looking boy with black hair caught her attention.  She gasped when she saw him.  It was like the whole world stopped.  She stepped forward and focused on him.

"He is so handsome," she gasped.  

"Great play, Tom," said one of the boys.  "You're the best polo player on the team.  A real champion."

Tom grinned and patted his dark brown mustang. "Well, it's not just me…I couldn't do it without Thunder."

Thunder pounded the ground with his hoof. 

Carrie walked closer onto the field.  One of the boys wolf whistled.

"Look at that. What a catch, wouldn't you say?"

"Hey, Tom, she's looking at you."

Carrie smiled. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" Tom asked.

"This," she nodded to the stick he was playing.  "What is it called?"

"I guess the girl's never seen a polo game before," said the boy next to Tom.

Tom leaned forward. "It's called polo.  It's a game you play on horseback."

"I've never been on a horse before," she said wishfully.

Tom smiled flirtatiously, "well, pretty girl, would you like a ride then?"'

His friends hooted and winked, saying, "go Tom."  Carrie smiled back, took off her hat and shook her long curly blond hair.  

"I'd love to."

"All right then," Tom held out his arm. "Come on over, don't be shy.  My horse won't bite."

Carrie put her hat back on her head, walked to the horse, petted Thunder and took Tom's hand.  He lifted her up in front of him and she sat sidesaddle.

"My name's Carrie," she said softly. "Carrie Star."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," he smiled. "I'm Tom Riddle.  I'll see you later."

"Oh, sure," said his friends, grinning.  Later, Tom."

Tom took Carrie around the countryside.  She loved how he handled the house.  It like he the horse knew where he planned on going.

"Love horses, don't you?" she asked.

"Sure do," he replied. "Since I was a little boy. I'm a polo champion—you know—I got lots of trophies.  My father's rich."

"That sounds interesting," he said.  "Can I see your home?"

"You want to see where I live?"

"Please?"

"Well, all right," Tom said.  "If you won't get in trouble with your family.  Wouldn't want them to think you were kidnapped."

Carrie smiled. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. Tell me more about yourself, Tom."

The more Tom had to speak about himself and her family; she wouldn't have to talk about hers.  She knew he was a muggle and she was a witch. She shouldn't even be with a muggle right now.  Her father wouldn't like it one bit.  Her ather expected her to marry a wealthy, pureblooded wizard, someone like Darien Malfoy. But Carrie did not like Darien Malfoy.  She didn't like him at all.

It didn't take long for Carrie to fall for Tom. She found that this muggle boy was more fascinating than any boy she ever met and he seemed interested in her too. Not because she was half veela, or a talented witch, or a good seer, but he seemed interested in her for her and that was what Carrie ever wanted.

Tom picked up the hat from her head.  "You know, you have very pretty hair.  Why wear a hat?"

"Keeps the sun out of my eyes," she answered.

"I like your hair the way it is," he said.  "So long…curly…shiny," he reached his hand in it.  "Like gold."

She smiled, "yes…I suppose so." She took the hat back.  "I guess I really don't need it.  Not that bright of a day.  My father gave it to me."

"He wants to cover your hair?"

Carrie sighed and threw the hat on the ground.  "I think so.  My father's…kind of bossy.  He wants to live my life for me, you know…won't let me choose for myself."

"I know what that's like," Tom agreed.  "I think my horse would like to go back home.  Bet he's hungry…and I'm too. Care for something to eat?"

"I'll be delighted."

"All right then."

Carrie was amazed at the size of his house. It was huge.  He took Thunder back to the stables, took off the reins and took the bit out of his mouth so Thunder could drink and eat while he took of the saddle.

"Such a big place," Carrie said, looking up at the mansion while Tom continued to take off Thunder's saddle.  "Do you have servants?"

"A cook and a gardener," he replied.  

"Do they saddle your horse for you?"

"I don't let them go near Thunder," he explained as he brushed the dust and dirty off Thunder. "Only I can approach my horse. There's a certain way I want hem saddled up…and they don't do it right.  They make Thunder uncomfortable—don't' they, big guy?" he patted thunder on the ribs and walked to Carrie. "Come on, I'll take you inside.  We'll make you something."

The little cook was very sweet and made lunch for the two of them.  Tom's parents, however, were surprised to see Tom talking to a girl they never seen before.  Carrie could hear them talking to each other in the next room.

"Who is that?" she heard his mother say to his father.  "I never seen Tom with her before."

"Mother, Father?" Tom stood up. "Come here. I want you to meet someone."

Tom's parents cleared their throats and stepped inside, putting on their most polite faces.  

"Mother, Father—this is Carrie."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Riddle. Mrs. Riddle."

"Pleasure," said Mrs. Riddle lightly. She had black hair to her shoulders and brown eyes.  Mr. Riddle had brown hair and grassy green eyes, the same as Tom's.

She cleared her throat and nodded to Tom, "Tom…could you come here please?"

"Mother—I have a guest," he mumbled.

"Now, Tom," she hissed.

"Excuse me, Carrie," said Tom, walking out of the dining room.  He closed the doors and talked to his parents so Carrie wouldn't hear. But she heard everything that went on.  They did not know Carrie was a witch.

"Tom, where did you find this girl?" his father demanded. "She's not from the school."

"That's because I go to an all _boy _school, father," Tom said sternly.  "If you come to watch me play polo, you would know that."

"Watch your tone."

"She doesn't like anyone I know," said his mother. "We know all your friends and their sisters—everyone talk to. Where did she come from?"

"Mother—you're speaking as if she's a witch or something!" Tom exclaimed and Carrie flinched.  If only they knew the truth.

"Her dress looks cheap," said her mother.  "I think she got it from a second hand store."

"It's a sundress!" he exclaimed. "And it's clean.  For heaven's sake, mother, she's not wearing rags.  Didn't you notice how _beautiful _she is?"

"Does she have money?" her father asked.

"Father, what are you playing at? All I did was take her for a ride.  I saw her while I was playing polo with my friends.  She never was a horse before so I took her for a ride. Where's the harm in that?"

Carrie heard enough. She closed her eyes and disaparated right on the spot.  When Tom was done hashing this with his parents, he went inside and found her gone.

"Carrie? Where are you?" he asked.  "Hello?  Great work!" he cried at his parents. "I think she heard you. You offended her.  I hope you're happy. I probably wont' see her again!"

"Well good," said her mother, "because we don't want you to."

--

Tom Riddle spent days thinking about Carrie Star.  He wondered if he ever saw her again.  When his friends asked him how far he got with the pretty blond girl, Tom told them she left before even got around to it.

"My parents were talking about her," he muttered.  "She probably heard us talking and left."

"And you never seen her again after that?"

"No," said Tom.  "And it's making me crazy.  I can't get her out of my head."

"You've tried looking for you, haven't you?" 

"Of course I have!" Tom barked. "I've looked _everywhere _in town.  I've asked everyone but no one seems to know her."

"She's probably not even from here," said another friend.  "Little Hangleton is a small town, Tom.  Everyone here knows everybody pretty much. You'll have to go outside of town to look for her.  Maybe all the way to London."

"All right," Tom answered. "I'll just keep looking for her.  I'm not going to stop until I found her."

"You're really hung up on her, aren't you?" asked Tom's friend with a grin.

"I barely even know Carrie," Tom said.  "But I can't stop thinking about her.  She's so mysterious, that's what I like about her.  I've got to find her or I'll—I'll go mad."

As for Carrie, she also couldn't stop thinking about Tom.  She spent all her time writing about him in her journal, his eyes, hair, handsome face and tall physique. She'd do anything to see him again. 

Carrie left her journal lying on her bed, open as she went downstairs to get a drink.  Her father worked in the Disposal of Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry of Magic and he worked there long hours.   He came home early to check up on her. He apparated next to her room.

"I'm home, Carrie," he said, "Carrie?"

He stepped inside her room and picked up her diary. He couldn't' believe what he was reading.

 _I can't get him out of my head.  None of boys were like him. I don't care if Tom is a muggle.  I feel myself falling in love with him.  He is so handsome.  He's not like the boys at Hogwarts.  I wanted to meet a muggle boy so I could learn more about muggles.  I could never find a boy at Hogwarts I could feel so comfortable with like I am with Tom._

Carrie walked back in her room and screamed when she found her father reading her diary.  "Daddy, _no! _Put that down!"

Marvolo Star turned around, shaking the diary.  "Is this true? You went searching for a muggle boy?  Now you're in love with one?"

"Yes."

"Haven't I taught you anything?" he demanded. "I told you to find a boy at Hogwarts, one who knows magic, like Darien Malfoy. That boy has offered you to visit him at his house and each year you turn him down. He's the right kind of boy for you!"

"I don't like Darien, Father!" she shrieked.  "I've never liked him. He would never leave me alone when I went to Hogwarts. He would always follow me around.  I don't want to be with him.  I hate him! I'm in love with a muggle and I don't care if you like it or not!"

Marvolo threw the diary at her.  "Does this muggle know you're witch, Carrie?"

"No," she answered. "I haven't told him."

He laughed.  "And if you tell him, do you know what will happen? He will _leave _you Carrie."

"No he won't!" she exclaimed. "You don't even know him."

"Do you know him, Carrie?" Marvolo demanded.  "Ask yourself. Do you really know this muggle boy?"

"Y-yes," she said.  

"How well? Do you know if he likes magic?"

"I don't care," she muttered. "I love him!  I want to be with him."

"You're a witch! He's a muggle!" her father roared. "You don't belong together!  It's been that way for centuries. Muggles cannot live with the magical.  It's the truth."

"I don't believe you," Carrie grumbled.  "I don't believe you at all!"

"You _will _marry Darien Malfoy," her father said. "I know what's best for you!"

"You can't make me!" she grabbed her wand and pointed it at her father. "I'm sorry, Father, but I will marry this boy.  I don't' care what you or anyone else thinks. I'm not going to let you blab this to anyone so you can lock me in St. Mungos for loving a muggle. It's my life!"

"Put the wand down, Carrie," he said.

"You're not going to ruin this for me, Father," she hissed. "For the first time in my life I'm happy! You will regret this!  You're going to St. Mungos. You're the on who's going to pay. Have you forgotten you hadn't married a real witch, Father? You let yourself be seduced by a veela and you think you can make me pay for your mistakes.  You want me to marry a real wizard to make _you _look good. It's always been about you! You never cared about what I wanted!

"Carrie, that's not true."

Carrie held her wand straight.  "No one will ever know this."

"You'll kill your own Father, Carrie?" he asked.

"No, Father," she answered. "If they caught me I'll end up in Azkaban. There are worse things than death you know.  I'm sorry, Father, I wish you could understand, but since you don't, you leave me no other choice.  _Obliterate!"_

Marvolo flew back and hit the wall. His whole memory was zapped away.  Carrie bent down and picked up her diary.  

"No one will ever know about this," said Carrie.  "No one will ever find me. Goodbye, Father."

Carrie disaparated and searched for the muggle boy who stole her heart.  She went back to the place she first saw him playing polo. His friends were there but she couldn't' see him.

"Where's Tom?" she asked.

"You just missed him," said his friend. "He's taking the train to London."

"London?"

"Yeah—he's been looking for you—where've you been all this time?"

"I have to go," she said.  "Thank you."

"Hey, you'll never reach him in time," Tom's friend said, waving his hand impatiently, "the train will leave soon."

Carrie went around the bleachers and disaparated.

"Hey—where'd she go? It's like she just disappeared!"

Carrie searched the train station for him. She saw him about to board the train.

"Tom! Tom! Wait!"

"Carrie?" he asked, turning.  "Carrie!" he pushed through the crowd of people and ran to her.  "I was just about to go to London so I can look for you. Where've you been? I've searched Little Hangleton all over trying to find you. I couldn't get you out of my head!"

"I know," she said, "I've been thinking about you too."

"You heard my parents talking about you," he said, "didn't you?"

"Yes," she answered.  "I did. That's why I left."

"None of that matters now," he said. "I ran away. I told them I loved you and I didn't care what they thought.  Carrie, let's run away together."

"Really?"

"Yes. Let's get married."

Carrie smiled and threw her arms around him.  "Yes. I'll run away with you! I love you, Tom Riddle. All I want it is to be with you."

Tom smiled, cupped her face and kissed her thoroughly on the mouth. 

Carrie Star, a witch, ran away with a muggle boy named Tom Riddle.  They lived in Tom's coattage with a stable.  Carrie got pregnant with a son and while Tom was brushing a horse, a snake slithered into the stable and spooked the horse. Tom tried to get the horse under control and Carrie found herself walking to the snake and hissing and spitting at it.

"Get out of here," she said, or she at least thought she said.  "Get out of the stables." The snake looked up at her, she repeated what she said and it slithered back out.

Tom gasped and looked at Carrie in shock.  "Carrie? How did you—what did you do?"

Carrie closed her eyes and sighed.  "I never told you the truth about me."

"What truth?"

"This will…be quite a shock," she said.  "But…Tom I'm…a witch.  I can speak to snakes—it's a gift I've been born with.   A little trick my father taught me. At my magic school, I got an Inner Eye Award. I know a lot about divination. That was my best subject.  I used snakes as a sort of divination study."

"I don't believe this," Tom muttered, shaking his head.  "Why...why didn't you tell me this before?  You didn't think I wouldn't find out what you really are?  Carrie, how could you?  I have never liked magic!  Now I learn that my wife is a witch!"

"I didn't know how to tell you," she said.  "I wanted to be an ordinary girl. I wanted to know what it is like.  Please try to understand, Tom.  You're not like the boys I knew when I went to the magic school."

"Oh, so there's a school for people like you?" he demanded.

"Tom, please…"

"My parents were right," he said, "they told me you weren't good enough for me.  They said something was wrong about you.  You are a witch!  I'm not going to live with a witch anymore."

"Tom, no! Don't leave me!"

"You should've thought of that _before _you ran off with me," Tom muttered.

"Tom, we're going to have a son together," she said, "You and me.  We can raise him together."

"What if this boy is—this boy is like you?" he demanded. "I'm not going to be the father of a freak! A freak like you! I'm leaving!" He turned to walk out of the stables but the door slid shut. "Carrie, that's enough.  Let me go.  If you really can see through the future, you shouldn't known this would have happened."

"Don't you walk out on me, Tom Riddle!" she screamed, her curly golden blond hair with silver streaks were flying around her head.  

Tom spun around and backed up into the wall in fear.  Carrie suddenly looked ugly, scary.  Her brown eyes had a hint of red in them.

"You walk away from me," she said, "and you will die."

"You'll come and kill me, Carrie?" he asked challengingly.

"Not me, but your son," Carrie replied.  "He will come and kill you for abandoning us.  He'll come after you."

"Because you'll tell him, won't you?" he inquired.

"I won't have to.  Because I'm going to die giving birth to him." She said. "I'll die of a broken heart because you left me.  When our son is older, around the age of sixteen, he will come and kill you.  But if you stay, with me, you will live."

"You're making this up," he said.  "You're doing this to scare me."

"No, it's true," she said.  "You leave and our son will kill you.  If you wish to stay alive, you must stay with me."

"I don't believe you," he tried to open the door. "I don't believe you. Let me go!"

"I'm going to name our son after you," she said, "and my father.  Our son, Tom Marvolo Riddle, will come for you, and he'll kill you."

"Don't you name that freak after me!" he shouted. I don't want him having my name!"

"I will name our son after you," she said, "whether you stay or leave.  He'll carry your name whether you like it or not.  He has to know his father somehow."

"Let me go, Carrie."  He said. "I'm not going to stay with you any more. You're not the girl I thought you were."

"Very well, you want to leave?" she demanded. "Then go!  But mark my words, Tom Riddle, our son will come and kill you for this.  You cannot hide from the greatest wizard of all—the Heir of Slytherin!"

**--End Carrie's Past—**

"That's not real," said Tom, shaking his head.  "You showed me this to scare me."

"Oh, it's true, half-blood," he said. "That is how your mother met your father…how your father left you.  How odd you carry your father's name, when he didn't want to be your father, and your grand father's name, when he didn't want to be your mother's father."

"I don't believe this," Tom said. 

"Your mother knew you would become me," said the dark Wizard. "She predicted this would happen.  So you can't hide from it now. She predicted you will go and kill your father—and that's exactly what you're going to do."

"I won't kill my father," Tom muttered.  "I carry his name."

"But aren't you angry for him for what he did, half-blood?" he inquired.  "Don't you want to do something to make him pay?"

"Yes, I am angry," Tom admitted, "but I'm not mad enough to kill him."

"Your grandfather disowned your mother because she disgraced the name of witch," he said, "letting herself fall in love with a muggle, when she could've had someone better. Someone like Darien Malfoy."

"She must've had a good reason for wanting to be with a muggle," Tom said. "She was probably curious about the muggle world."

"Yes, that's probably true," said the wizard, laughing. "She learned more than she bargained for, wouldn't you say?"

--

Tom woke up and raised his troubled head.  Quietly, he walked downstairs for a glass of water.  He wished the dreams would stop. He wondered if he should see a physiatrist but how would they understand?  How could he lie on a coach and tell someone he doesn't know, probably a muggle that doesn't know a thing about magic, tell him that he's having nightmares about a monster he will someday become?  He will probably be locked up in a loony bin for the rest of his life.  

A school owl came with the post.  It carried only one letter with a list of items he would need for his fourth year. Sarah did not get one. Tom felt bad for her.  She'd be waking up soon and how could he tell her she wouldn't be coming to Hogwarts with him?  He didn't want to leave her behind another year.  Maybe if he wrote a fake letter saying she was accepted to Hogwarts, it will help her feel better.

Why couldn't Sarah be a witch?  She wanted to be one so bad.  It wasn't fair to little Sarah.  Tom felt that if she could go to Hogwarts, she would be in Hufflepuff house.  She certainly reminded him of a Hufflepuff.  She was very sweet and loyal and just.  She had the voice of a bell, just like Helga Hufflepuff.  Tom thought that she could be the Heir of Hufflepuff.  Sarah couldn't' be a muggle, could she?  Maybe her father was a muggle but no one knew about her family. Maybe her mother was a witch and she had brothers and sisters that were wizards and witches and perhaps Sarah was a squib, having no powers of her own.

Sarah walked down the steps.  "Good morning, Tom," she said brightly.  "Is that your Hogwarts letter?"

"Yes."

"Did I—did I get one too?" she asked hopefully.

Tom pressed his lips together.  He couldn't bring himself to tell her no so he shook his head slightly.

"I didn't?"

"I'm sorry, Sarah," said Tom.  "You didn't get a letter."

"Oh," Sarah sat down across from him.  "I guess, I'm not a witch then."

"Don't be sad, Sarah," Tom told her.  "Maybe your mother was a witch.  Did she ever use magic? Do you remember?"

"No," she answered. "I don't remember my mother very much. She worked a lot and she just left me home with a babysitter."

"Where did she work?" Tom inquired.

"I think she was a waitress," she said. "I can't remember where though.  She had a lot jobs. I think she was working more than one."

"Do you know any of your family?" he asked. "Any aunts or uncles? Grandparents?  Sarah, try to remember."

"I can't remember any from my father's side," she explained. "My mother had a brother though.  I remember seeing him wear a dress one time...but he told me they were robes."

 Tom grinned.  "Yes, they are robes, Sarah, but they do look like dresses, don't they?"

"Yeah. I think so."  She said. "And his wife—my aunt—she was the same too. She was kind of funny. Strange things happened when they were around. They weren't at my mother's funeral, but I remember this bluebird being there."

"Sarah, do you remember your mum's maiden name?  The name she had before she was married?"

Sarah shook her head.

"She kept your father's name, right?"

"Yeah.  I think she thought she'd always come back to see me.  I do remember a bit about my father. I remember him fighting with my mother and he left one day."

"I'm sorry, Sarah."

"I don't know why he left," said Sarah.  "I think because he wanted a boy instead of a girl."

"That's a horrible reason for him to leave," Tom muttered.  

"Maybe he would've stayed if I was a boy," Sarah said sadly.  

"Sarah, don't say that," Tom said, taking her hand.  "It's not your fault."

"Maybe my dad will come back for me," she shrugged.  "I think he had something important to do."

"I think I know why your father left," Tom said slowly.

"Why?"

"The same reason why my father left," Tom answered. "Because our mothers were both witches.  You're a halfblood like me, Sarah, only you don't have any magical powers of your own.  That's why you are a squib.  Your mother was a witch. Your aunt was a witch and your uncle was a wizard. See, you do have family, but the police didn't know that.  Know why? Because magical people live in different places, far from muggles.  Your mother's muggle friends didn't know she was a witch.  She didn't tell them."

Sarah nodded. "Well, is there a way I can become a witch, Tom? So I can do magic too?"

"I remember reading something about a Kwikspell Course at school," he said.  "I can look in it for you."

"Oh, Tom, will you?"

Tom shrugged. "Sure."

Sarah gasped, got up and threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank you, Tom!"

Tom smiled and blushed, closing his eyes in slight embarrassment.  "Well, the least I could to, Sarah."

Sarah kissed him on the cheek. "You're the best, Tom!"

--

Feeling he didn't need it anymore, Tom sold his Oakshaft 79 at the same place he bought it to buy his new books and sold his Divination and Care of Magical Creatures book at a second hand bookshop for more money.  The money in his vault was getting quite low.  

"Kwikspell course," Tom mumbled, looking at the books, "Kwikspell, Kwikspell—er—excuse me—sir?  Is there something here on Kwikspell courses?"

"You thinking of enrolling in one?" asked the manager, looking him over. "You look like a capable wizard to me, son—already in your Hogwarts robes."

Tom smiled and cleared his throat. "No, it's not for me.  It's for a friend. You see, sir, she's a squib.  I want to send her the Kwikspell Course. She can study it on her own, right?"

"Well, sure," he said, scratching his chin, "I think we do have something here. Just a moment—let's see here--,"the manager searched around for a book. "Here we go.  This is our little pamphlet for the Kwikspell Course."

"Kwikspell Course, Tom?" Alaric asked, walking inside the bookstore. "You don't need that! You're great enough as it is."

"It's not for me, Alaric," Tom answered. "I know a squib at the orphanage."

"There's a squib at your orphanage?"  
"Yeah. She's a very sweet girl.  She's sad she can't go to Hogwarts though."  
"Tom, why waste your time?" Alaric asked. "If she hasn't any magical powers then why bother?  Think of yourself."

Tom narrowed his eyes.  "I'll see you on the train, Alaric.  You don't want your father to see us." He looked back at the manager.  "How much for the pamphlet, sir?"

"Five sickles."

"All right," Tom reached into his pocket and paid five sickles for pamphlet.  He walked outside looking at it.  The Kwikspell Course would be a helpful way for Sarah to learn magic and then maybe she could come to Hogwarts to learn on her own.  But could there be a way he could speed the process up faster?

--

Before Tom left for his fourth year at Hogwarts, he handed Sarah the purple and silver envelope.

"This is your Kwikspell Course," he said. "You can study that while I'm gone and you can look at my _Standard Book of Spells Grade 1_ if you want.  I won't need it anymore.  Next year, I can buy you a wand. I'm sorry; I didn't have enough money now.  I spent almost all I had on the course for you."

Sarah looked up at him, grinned and threw her arms around him.  "Oh Tom!"  She couldn't express her feelings into words.  "I'll try very hard.  I promise.  I'll see you when we get back and then you could get a wand for me.  Thank you, Tom!"

Sarah kissed him on the cheek, he kissed her back and he left the orphanage. Sarah ran back up to her room and read over the Kwikspell Course.  Perhaps it wasn't the same as going to Hogwarts to be with Tom, but it was the next best thing.

**To Be Continued**


	11. Sarah the Squib

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 11

**Sarah the Squib**

Tom's fourth year at Hogwarts went pretty smoothly compared to last year.  He didn't have to worry about taking ten classes and remembering which lesson he had to go to. He was doing a good job keeping his grades up and at this rate; he'll become prefect next year for sure.  By the second week of December, they announced the approaching Yule Ball and boys started asking around for partners.  Alaric kept bragging he was going to ask Olive.

"Olive doesn't like you," said Tom.  "Maybe you should ask Myrtle Mason!"

"That is not funny!" Alaric exclaimed as Tom chuckled away.

As they went to the Slytherin Common Room after lessons, they found Olive chatting with her gang of Slytherin girls.  Alaric puffed out his chest, smoothed his hair back and strutted to her.

"Hey, Olive."  He said smoothly.

"What is it, Alaric?" she demanded.

"You want to go to the ball with me?" he inquired.

Olive snorted. "Don't be ridiculous—if you want a date—go ask Myrtle Mason!  You can hold her goblet glasses for her!"

Her gang went into a fit of giggles and Alaric's pale face went pink. Olive stood up and approached a chuckling Tom.

"Tom—if you haven't asked anyone yet—can we go to the ball together?" 

Alaric's mouth dropped.  Tom smiled.

"I'd love to, Olive," he replied.  "In fact—I was just about to ask you."

"Riddle!" Alaric shouted. "You didn't say—"

"Sorry, Alaric," said Tom.

"Oh, don't worry, Alaric," Gwen Pritchard, a redhead from Olive's gang grinned.  "I'll go to the ball with you!"

Alaric looked over her judgmentally. She wasn't as pretty as Olive but he liked her gorgeous red hair and she flirted with him since their first year.  She always had a crush on him and let him cheat off her tests.  It didn't do much good because she wasn't the smartest cookie in the jar.

"All right," Alaric nodded.  "I was thinking of asking you too, Gwen."

"Great," she smiled.  "Can't wait!"

Giggling, the girls went to their dormitories.

--

Before the Yule Ball, Alaric presented some dark green robes to Tom. "Here, Tom. You can wear these. They were my dad's."

Tom didn't feel so comfortable about something Mr. Malfoy wore.  "Did he wear them the time he went to the Yule ball with my mother?"

"No, of course not," he answered. "At least, I don't think so." Alaric pondered.  "Why don't I wear them instead and you could wear my new ones?  My mom got me red—I hate red!"  
"Okay, I like red," Tom picked up the red dress robes.  "One of my favorite colors anyway."

It worked out. Tom didn't have to wear something Mr. Malfoy wore probably when he went on a date with his mother and Alaric didn't have to wear something that wasn't his color.  Olive was looking beautiful in silky robes that matched the same shade of red of Tom's robes.  Gwen was wearing black.

"Shall we?" Tom said, offering Olive his arm.

"Oh yes," she smiled and clung to it like a magnet.  

The Yule Ball was going fine for Tom. He was there with a very pretty girl and he seemed to forget all his worries.  Tom was a very good ballroom dancer.  He wasn't sure where the skills came from. He was sure he never danced like this before.  He danced with Sarah a couple of times, but they didn't waltz or anything. Olive turned and looked around for her favorite person to pick on, Myrtle but she wasn't there.

"Looks like Myrtle didn't get a date!" she cackled. "Poor Myrtle!"

"She probably didn't have anything to wear!" added Gwen.

"Would you excuse us, boys?" said Olive, grinning at Gwen. "We need to use the little witches room."

"Certainly," said Tom with a nod and the girls went on their way to the bathroom on the third floor, believing that was where Myrtle was and indeed, when they stepped into the bathroom, they heard soft sobbing coming from one of the stalls and saw a girl sitting on the floor.  

Olive put her finger to her lips, hushed and knocked on the stall.  "Are you in there, Myrtle the Mudblood?"

"Who's that?"

"It's me—your good ol' pal Olive Hornby!"

"Go away, Olive!" Myrtle cried.

"What's wrong, Myrtle?" asked Gwen. "Couldn't get a date?"

The girls giggled and knocked pushed the door open.  Myrtle was sitting in her school robes, crying.

"You know, Myrtle," said Gwen, "the ball is in the Great Hall—not the girl's bathroom!"

"Leave me alone," Myrtle muttered.

"So, Myrtle the Mudblood didn't find a date?" said Olive.  "Or any decent dress robes? Tsk—tsk—well, it's hard to have wizard money if you don't come from a wizarding family!"

"My dad's a doctor," Myrtle muttered. "He does have money."

"So why didn't he exchange money then?" Gwen asked.  "Maybe because he's saving it to pay you into muggle college after Hogwarts because you can't get a _real _witch's job?  Hard to become anything in the wizarding world when you can't do a simple spell!"

"Hey, I hear they're hiring wait staff at the Leaky Cauldron," said Olive, "you can go there after graduation, Myrtle! But don't expect to get any good tips!  You'll be lucky to get even a Knut!"

Myrtle sobbed louder into her hands. "Leave me alone or—I'll tell Professor Dippet!"

"Oh, what's he going to do?" Gwen demanded.  "Take points away from our house?"

"All right, we'll leave you alone to your moping," Olive smirked.  "Because unlike you, we managed to get ourselves some partners.  We're with the two most handsome boys in Hogwarts—Tom Riddle and Alaric Malfoy—and they're waiting for us right now.  We'd better get going, shouldn't we Gwen?"

"Yeah," Gwen grinned, "wouldn't want to keep my partner waiting!"

"Bye, bye, Myrtle," said Olive and the girls left, laughing as Myrtle sobbed. "She's so pathetic—maybe if she washed her hair she could get a partner."

"Myrtle the Mudblood can't even hold her wand the right way," Gwen shook her head. "What's with all these mudbloods at Hogwarts?  Why did Dippet allow them to infest this school?  There's got to be a way to get them out!"

"There is," Olive said with a nod, "there is…"

After giving Myrtle a hard time, they came back to the Great Hall. Olive took Tom by the arm.

"Hi, Olive, you want to dance again?" he asked.

"Can we go outside for a while?" she inquired.

"Sure," he replied as Alaric took his date to the dance floor.

Tom and Olive stood on the balcony. 

"I was getting hot in there," she said, fanning herself.  "Are you enjoying yourself? I know I am."

"Time of my life," Tom answered.  "I don't know how it can be better."

Olive grinned and wrapped he arms around him.  "_I _do?"

Tom grinned back. "Oh?"  He put his arms around her waist and bent his head down to meet his lips with hers.  

--

The Yule Ball was one of the best times of Tom's life and Olive and Tom became a couple after that.  They walked around to their classes' together holding hands; arm in arm or with their arms around each other.  Tom was enjoying this so much attention, having a girl interested in him this like this that her nearly forgot his promise to Sarah.  He promised to look into the Kwikspell Course for her.

"You want to go outside and walk by the lake, Tom?" Olive asked after having lunch. "We still have a while before Defense Against Dark Arts…Dale's such a bore anyway."

"Sounds great, Olive," Tom said, "but I have to go to the library."

"Library?" she inquired with a giggle. "What for?  You're brilliant enough as it is!"

"There's something I had to look up," Tom explained. "I'm sorry, we'll do it again sometime, okay?  I'll meet you in class."

"Oh, all right." She groaned and Tom left the table.

There had to be another way than the Kwikspell Course to help Sarah become a witch and develop her powers. There had to be some hidden in her somewhere.  Could he bring those powers out somehow?  He looked at each book in the library having something to do squibs and he took notes. He found something very interesting.

Some squibs had a mind link with certain animals, mostly cats.  Cats were able to determine magical people.  He remembered the times he went to town with Sarah on his back, stopping at the pet store. Sarah had some kind of thing going on with the cats. They had been sleeping gin the window but when Sarah came up to it, they woke up and meowed at her.  Sarah could speak to them the same way Tom could speak to snakes.  So Sarah really _did _have some magic powers but they very weak. Tom could help make those smaller.  He made a small note of this and checked his watch.

His lunchtime was almost over. He had to get to Defense Against Dark Arts. Perhaps his professor would know about helping a squib train up their powers.

While his professor was explaining about different types of curses, Tom raised his hand.

"Professor Dale? I have a question."

"Yes, Tom?"

"Is there a way you can make a squib become a wizard or a witch?" he asked.

Alaric turned in his chair and looked at Tom as if he went mental.  So did the whole class.  Professor Dale nodded.

"Yes, with the Kwikspell Course," he answered.

"Yeah, I already knew about that," Tom said impatiently, "but what is there another way, besides Kwikspell?  Can you use a spell on a squib to make their powers come to the surface?"

Professor Dale did not answer right away.  He raised his eyebrow.

"One of my friends at the orphanage is a squib, Professor," he said. "I gave her the Kwikspell course and she's learning it at the orphanage now, but is there something besides Kwikspell that can help a squib use their powers? Turn them into a real witch or wizard?"

"How close are you with this squib?" Olive asked, eyeing Tom suspiciously but Tom didn't listen to her.

"Yes," said Professor Dale, "there is.  With Dark Magic, of course.  You can't do it from something you'll learn in this classroom. There is a Dark ritual dark wizards and witches used to bring their family members born with no powers and make them stronger.  Some wizards practiced this on muggles, but can be highly dangerous and painful for both the squib or muggle and the magic individual performing it.  For it to work properly, the wizard or witch performing the ritual would have to be very strong in the first place. It sometimes takes more than one wizard.  Some wizards and witches—wishing to become stronger than they already were—would go under this dangerous procedure. It's a practice wizard folk do not practice anymore.  They discontinued this centuries ago."

"What did they do, Professor?" he asked. "How do they do the ritual?"  
Professor Dale sighed and paced the room.  The Slytherin students started to find this interesting as well.  Professor Dale stopped pacing and folded his arms.  

"I don't know the details," he said.  "I've never seen it done.  But the wizards would place the squib or muggle or wizard seeking more power on a sort of alter, like a long table.  They would chant different incantations and give the individual the blood of a strong animal to drink.  You've studied animagi in your class transfiguration class last year, haven't you?  Well, it's kind of like becoming an animagi.  It takes a long time—years even—the individual will go under many dangerous transformations until they are no longer recognizable."

Alaric grinned, "cool."

"Now," said Professor Dale, "back at the subject at hand."

"Thank you, Professor," Tom nodded. "That will be all." He looked down at his notes and wrote _ritual _down.  Tom had to learn more about the ritual if he wanted to help Sarah become a real witch.

--

Tom's nightmares got worse. The dark wizard would not leave him alone.  He taunted him many times.

"Why, half blood? Why waste your time on the squib?" he demanded.  "Why don't' you look for the Chamber of Secrets?  Focus on yourself becoming greater and greater.  It's your destiny, Heir of Slytherin."

"Sarah is my friend," Tom said.  "I want her to be a witch so she can learn magic."

"There is a way you can make her a witch."

"How?"

"Do the ritual," he said simply.  

"But it's _dangerous_," Tom argued.  "It takes a long time.  It will hurt Sarah. I don't want to hurt her."

"Oh, but if she's strong," said the voice, "she will be able to withstand it. Besides, she will have you there to give her the strength she needs.  Start small by opening the Chamber of Secrets.  Learn all you can about the Dark Arts.  Your best friend Alaric has a lot of Dark Arts items.  You do remember, don't you?"

"Yes I do," he replied.

"The only way you'll help Sarah is if you become me, boy."

"No, I don't want to become you," said Tom. "If I do the ritual, it will be like cheating."

"But you do like to cheat, Tom. Don't deny it. You get a thrill out of cheating."

"I never cheat!"

"Oh, yes you do. Deny it all you want. But you cheat when you don't know the answer.  You are a smart boy, Tom, but you can't do everything. When you don't know the answer—you cheat."

Tom gasped. "No…"

"The Kwikspell may help her hold her wand," the voice said offhandedly, "but it won't give her the real power of a sorceress—look half-blood."

Tom looked and there sat Sarah looking at her Kwikspell Course and studying hard.  Tom smiled.

"She's a hard worker, just like a real Hufflepuff," Tom said.

"Yes, because she has Hufflepuff blood in her," the wizard crooned. "You can make her a real Hufflepuff if you do the ritual. It's too early for that now, but you have to study everything about the Dark Arts.  Start now, boy."

"I'm not going to do it."

"I'm getting impatient," he said. "I will not wait any longer."

"I told you time and time again," Tom shouted. "I'm not going to be you!  I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle!  I'll become a great wizard. I'll be the Minister of Magic but I will not become you!"

"Not even for Sarah? Not for your friends?" he inquired. "Think about your friend Alaric. He's getting impatient too. He wants to see the Heir of Slytherin get to work."

"I don't' want to," Tom muttered.

"Why look for the Chamber of Secrets then?" he asked.

"I just wanted to know the legend was true," he replied.  "It's not real and I won't find it.  Just a legend."

"But I've told you before, boy. It is no legend. You have to keep searching. It might just be right under your nose."

Tom folded his arms.  "I'm not going to get myself involve din the Dark Arts.  You can't make me."

"Is it because you're afraid you'll get caught?"

"Maybe I am."

"Afraid of Dumbledore?"

"He's my Transfiguration Professor," Tom said hotly.  "It's _you _I'm afraid of."

"Oh, well, I thought you would succumb to me Tom," said the voice, "but I suppose you just need another day to think about it.  You may be safe during the day, dear boy, but I'll come where no one can help you. I'll be hiding here in your dreams...in your head…you cannot get rid of me. Time to wake up, Tom. You need to prepare for your O.W.L's if you want to be prefect next year."

--

Tom woke up and jumped. "My O.W.L's!" he exclaimed. "I almost forgot!"

Tom grabbed all his stuff and hurried to the library to go over his notes and books. He had to be prefect next year. If he didn't make he wouldn't know what he'd do.  He knew he had the potential.  Tom had the Slytherin blood.  He had the potential too.

On the train ride home, he talked to his friends Alaric and Olive about the O.W.L's.

"I know I did terrible on mine," Olive groaned.  "There was too much for me to remember.  How about you, Alaric?"

"I'm sure I'll do fine," he answered surely, leaning back with a grin.

"You cheated, didn't you?" Tom demanded, turning.  "How are you supposed to learn if you don't' do the work yourself?"

"Hey, you cheated too," Alaric muttered, sitting up.  "I saw you looking at that Ravenclaw's notes."

"I was checking my work," Tom insisted.  "She let me borrow them."

"Cheating," said Alaric.

"Checking."

"Cheating."

"Checking."

"Yeah, sure, Riddle, whatever you say."  He rolled his eyes. "And I know you stole those notes too. Naughty, naughty."

"I didn't _steal _them," Tom groaned. "I borrowed them."

"Yeah, when she didn't know," Alaric insisted.  

"Well…you probably just have a bad influence on me then," Tom said, "because I don't usually cheat."

"It's just easier that way."

--

Tom came back to the orphanage, looking for Sarah.  He heard piano playing in the den. He came around the corner and knocked on the wall for her attention, but she was busy playing for the piano.  Tom paused and waited for her to finish playing the piano.  After her song was over, Tom walked closer to the piano, clapping.

"Bravo, Sarah!" he exclaimed. 

Sarah gasped and turned around. "Tom!"

Tom stopped. Sarah looked different than the last time he saw her. She was the same short and skinny girl with pigtails when he left last year.  Now she grew a foot taller and her hair, instead of pigtails, was back in a braid.  Her skinny body seemed to fill out a bit in more places than one, giving her once skinny frame curves.  She started to fill out in her chest.  Sarah was now thirteen and little Sarah wasn't so little anymore.  Little Sarah was growing up and suddenly, for that small moment, Tom didn't think of her as his little sister anymore. He thought of her, as a girl becoming a young woman.

Sarah stood up. "Hello, Tom. It's so good to see you."  Sarah walked up to him and hugged him. Tom was a little taken back and was a bit afraid to hug her.  Not only could he see the difference in her appearance, but also he could feel it when he hugged her. What happened to the sweet little girl he knew?  Tom started to think of her as a younger version of his girlfriend Olive Hornby.

"S-Sarah," he said, pushing her back and looking her over. "You've, you've grown!  I know you were growing a little taller the day I left but—It seemed I missed a lot."

Sarah blushed slightly.  "Yes, I know.  I'm in the middle of a growth spurt. I need start buying new dresses. My old ones are getting too small."

"Wow," Tom was still in shock.  "I hope the boys aren't giving you too much trouble. Especially Patrick and Ned."

"Oh, Ned's been adopted!" she exclaimed.

"Really?"

"Yeah," she said.

"That's hard to believe," Tom said. "Who would want him?"

"_Very_ desperate people," she answered with a giggle.

"So, you've been looking over your Kwikspell Course, haven't you?"

"Oh, yes, Tom!" she cried.  "I was just taking a small break. Practicing the piano.  It helps me relax."

"You're quite the piano player," he said.  

She smiled. "It's good to have you back, Tom. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," he said awkwardly.  He patted her shoulder.  Sarah becoming older—was going to take some getting used to.

--

One summer day, Tom and Sarah were outside on the porch drinking lemonade and Tom was helping her with her Kwikspell Course.  Because Ned and Bobby were no longer around, Patrick had to pick on Tom all by himself.

"Well, what do we have here?" Patrick inquired.  

"Go away, Patrick," Sarah muttered, jumping up.

"No, I don't think so," said Patrick.  "You've been avoiding me, Sarah."

"What's going on here?" Tom demanded.  

"Oh, Patrick thinks we're a couple or something," she said offhandedly.

"Yeah, that's right," Patrick said.

"Patrick, I don't think you're her type," Tom muttered. "You leave Sarah alone."

"Oooh, palying big brother again, are we?" he questioned.

"Shut up."

"So, you think Sarah is a freak too, huh?" Patrick asked.

Tom reached for his wand.

"No Tom!" Sarah shouted, grabbing his arm. "Don't let him get to you.  He's not worth it. Patrick will always be a jerk. He'll never grow out of it. Let's go for a walk, all right?"

"Okay," Tom mumbled.

"I'll be here when you get home, pumpkin," said Patrick.

"Get a life, Patrick," Sarah muttered.

Tom and Sarah left the orphanage and went for one of their usual walks in the park.  Sarah was getting to big for him to carry her on his neck or shoulders and he wasn't sure if holding her hand would make people think they were a couple or brother sister or what so he just walked beside her with his hands in her pockets. He never felt so uncomfortable around her before.  But at the same time, he still enjoyed her company and wanted to be near her as much as possible.  

"What's the matter, Tom?" she asked. "You're awfully quiet."

"Oh," he said.  "I was just wondering if I'll become prefect next year."

"Don't worry, Tom," said Sarah.  "I think you'll be prefect.  You're a good student and you try hard."

Tom bit his lip.  He didn't just work hard. He cheated. It was because of Alaric.  Alaric cheated all the time and Tom somehow just got mixed up in it. Alaric really was a bad influence on him but they were still best friends anyway.

Sarah took a wrong step and a snake's head popped out of its burrow just feet away from where Sarah was.

"A snake," she gasped.

"Sarah, don't move," Tom instructed.  "It'll bite if you move." Tom walked forward to the snake and started speaking in Parseltongue. Sarah looked on in surprise. She never noticed Tom do that before.

The snake lay flat and Tom picked it up.  "It's okay…it said you only scared it."

"How did you do that?" she asked.

"What?"

"You just…talked to it!" she gasped.

"Yeah."

"Did they teach you that at Hogwarts?" she inquired.

Tom shook his head. "No. That sort of thing they don't teach at Hogwarts. I'm a Parselmouth.  I can speak to snakes.  Something I was born with.  Not a lot of people can do it."

"Wow, Tom," she said.  "That's amazing.  I wish I could do something like that!"

"You kind of do," Tom insisted. "Remember the cats?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have this thing with cats, Sarah," he replied. "You can talk to them, the same way I can talk to snakes.  I've read that cats have this ability to decipher magic people and the cats knew you were a squib.  I think that's one of the gifts you have."

"A lot of people talk like cats," she said.  "All you have to say is _meow, meow."_

"But I've seen you, Sarah," he insisted. "You do more than just making the sound a cat makes.  You speak…in a different kind of language."

"But I don't' realize it."

"Yeah, I don't' realize I'm speaking in Parseltongue when I'm talking to snakes," he said, "but I do.  I think it only works when I'm looking at a snake.  People hear Parselmouth but they don't know what I'm saying. They say its like a snake hissing…but there are words."

"Weird," said Sarah.

"You can touch the snake if you want to," he said.  "I told it you weren't going to hurt it."

Sarah paused.

"It's okay, Sarah."

"Well, all right," she stepped to Tom and held her hand out to pet the snake's head. "Wow…I always thought snakes were slimy. But he's actually pretty rough."

"Actually, this one is a she," Tom corrected.

"Oh."

Tom put the snake back in her hole.  "Come on. I'm a little hungry, aren't you?"

"Yeah.  Maybe the school post will come soon."

"Me too," Tom said.  "The waiting is making me crazy."

--

Tom got his letter for his fifth year at Hogwarts and the record about his owls.  He was kind of nervous about opening it.  What if he didn't make it?  Tom would be crushed.

Taking a breath, he opened the letter.

_Dear Mr. Riddle,_

_Congratulations!  You have made it as a prefect for Slytherin House.  _

Tom gasped and couldn't read the rest of the letter. He was so excited.  

"I made it," Tom mumbled, "I'm going to be a prefect!" His silver prefect pin fell from the letter. He picked it up and ran to find Sarah outside going over her Kwikspell Course.

"Sarah! Sarah!"

"Tom, what is it?" she asked.  

"Sarah, I did it," he said.  "I'm going to be prefect this term!"

"Really?" she gasped. "Oh, Tom, that's wonderful! Congratulations! I knew you could do it!"

"I'd better go owl my friends," said Tom, "or maybe I should surprise them on the train.  What do you think?"

"Surprise them," she answered.

"Yeah, good idea," he said.  "I think I'll buy new robes at Diagon Alley when I get your wand.  I can sell my old robes if I have the money."

"Oh…well, you don't need to get my wand," said Sarah.  "Just get your new robes and things you'll need."

"But Sarah, I want to share the wizard world with you," he insisted.  "I want you to introduce you to my friends.  I can sell a few things."

"Well, all right. But I don't want to be a bother."

"It's no bother, really," said Tom. "I'm tired of buying my stuff all by myself.  It's boring."

"Well, all right," she said.  "If you're really okay with it."

"I'm okay with it, trust me," he said. "You should come—who knows—you might find your aunt and uncle there and they can adopt you!"

Sarah grinned.  Finding her magical aunt and uncle would make her day.  

--

Tom was dreaming about the Dark Wizard again.  "So, you're going to be a prefect this year, half-blood, congratulations.  But you're not even close to what you're going to become. This is just the start."

"I wish you'd leave me alone," Tom mumbled.  "I don't want to become you, okay?"

"Let's start this year with a bang," said the wizard, laughing, "shall we?" he took out his wand and shot the Leg Locker Curse on him. Tom's legs came together and he fell down.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Tom said, trying to get up.

"Because you're weak. You need me."

"I'm not as weak as you think," said Tom, using the counter curse to get back up.  It was strange. They both had the same wand.  "How about a duel?  I'll show you. I'll get you out of my head once and for all!"

The dark and unknown wizard laughed.  "So you wish to duel with your future self, now don't you?  Well, boy.  You may be quite the dueler, but I am more experienced than you." They pointed their wands at each other. "Go ahead…do your worst!"

_"Expelliarmus!" _Tom exclaimed, but the Disarming Charm didn't seem to be working. Tom tried again. "_Expelliarmus!  EXPELLIARMUS!"_

He laughed again. "That spell won't work on me, boy!  _Crucio!"_

"No!"

The Crucaitus Curse hit Tom like a cannon ball and threw him to the floor, shaking and screaming.  Tom wanted to shout at him how it was so unfair to use one of the Forbidden Curse like that but his insides felt like they were coming apart. The wizard loomed over him.

"Thought you could stop me with the Disarming Charm?" he demanded.  "_Ennerate!"_

Tom stopped screaming and he looked up at him. "That wasn't fair…how come…I couldn't disarm you?  Was it because…our wands were the same?  Or because…you really think you can win?"

"Because as much as you want to deny it," said the wizard, "you do want to become me. You didn't put enough power in that spell, you lousy, pathetic halfblood!"

Tom reached for his wand but the wizard stepped on his hand.

"I am losing patience," he said.  "You are not living up to your potential.  Your mother knew you would be Heir of Slytherin.  She foresaw you killing your father and you are going to do it.  Salazar Slytherin went through all that trouble to build that Chamber of Secrets and you are going to find it!  You are going to open it, let the creature out and kill all the unworthy to learn magic. You are going to open it.  That creature is waiting to feed. It's been down there for centuries!  Salazar Slytherin did not make that Chamber of Secrets so you can just think it was some tale.  You are the Heir of Slytherin. It is about time you start acting like it!"

 "I don't want to do it," Tom muttered.  "I don't want to!"

"You haven't a choice! You have the power!  Now use it!"

"I may have the power," Tom hissed, "but I don't have the desire!  Let the creature die for all I care.  I could get caught!  I will not take the risk!"

"I have ways of changing your mind!" he said evilly, turning around and pointing to a familiar girl. It was Sarah.  He pointed his wand at Sarah.  "Do it…or she dies."

"We're in a dream here," Tom said, "It won't even be real."

"I'll torture all your friends if you won't do it."  He said.  "You know what will happen to Sarah if you don't?  She'll continue to live as a squib, a useless, worthless squib with no powers.  No one will want her.  Not her father or her wizarding family.  Your friend Alaric will desert you.  He's only being your friend because you're the Heir of Slytherin you know."

"That's not true," Tom muttered.  "Alaric told me so. He became my friend because he thought I was smart."

"If you're smart, you'll do as I say.  Your pretty catch of a girlfriend will leave you for your best friend Alaric."

"No, Olive wouldn't do that," Tom insisted. "She wouldn't. She doesn't even like Alaric."

"But Alaric has more ambition and he's not afraid to show it. He has money and power.  And you…you're the Heir of Slytherin but you don't want to use that to your advantage?  The Heir of Slytherin wants to become the Minister of Magic? Oh, we can do better than that, much better!"  
"Minister of Magic will be fine enough," Tom spat.  "I'll be happy as Minister of Magic."

"Yes…and what would people think once they find out you've become Minister of Magic because you cheated to get there?"

"What makes you think I'll cheat?" Tom demanded.  

"You have cheated on your O.W.L's," he reminded.  "Don't say you were just checking your work. You wanted to become prefect since you came to Hogwarts and you'd do anything to get there."

Tom bit his lip.  "I—I—I would be crushed if I didn't get it.  I just cheated a little. Only a little"

"I am growing restless. It's time for you to use your power to your advantage.  Are you sure you'd rather sit at a desk twiddling your thumbs and sending a bunch of owls or would you rather rule the world?"

"That's crazy. I'd be chasing a dream."

"If you do what I say, you'll be living it."

Tom shook his head.  "I really don't want to."

The wizard turned and waved his wand over three people, Sarah, Olive and Alaric.  "This will be your future, Tom, if you don't become the greatest wizard in the world.  Alaric and Olive will betray you and run away together. Sarah will leave the orphanage and you will be the Minister of Magic, sitting at your desk all day, wondering where all your friends went to."  

He made them disappear.

"It's a lie."

"It will happen."

"Sarah will still be there for me. She's not like that."

"Where would she go? Who would want to take care of a squib? She'll never become adopted. No muggle family will take a girl that speaks to cats and a wizard family doesn't want to take care of a dead-beat witch.  She'll become a singer on the streets.  No one will want her…but she'll still have her voice."

"Sarah…."

"You care for Sarah, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"And you want to keep your friends, do you not? You don't have many friends."

"No…not until I got to Hogwarts."

"You and your friends will suffer unless you live up to our potential. You don't want to let that happen, do you?"

Tom rubbed his hands together, thinking. Was this a trick?  He didn't' want to lose his friends but he didn't' want to become a killer either.

"You were born to do this."

"No, I'm not a monster.  Monsters are not born. They're created.  You're going to turn me into something I'm not."

"Ah—something Dumbledore said in your class, isn't it?"

"I like the subject of Transfiguration," Tom explained.

"But Dumbledore scares you."

_"You _scare me."

"Afraid of yourself now, Half-blood?" he started to walk around him. "Afraid of what you'll become? You should be proud!  You should be excited!  You should be honored!  Face your fate!"

"I don't want to."

"Need more convincing, don't we?" he raised his wand at Tom. "_Crucio!"_

As Tom dropped to the ground and began shaking and screaming, the Dark Wizard put the same curse on Sarah, Olive and Alaric.

"I will not stop until you give in!"

This was the worse dream Tom ever had.  He couldn't get out of it. It felt so real.

"Stop!" Tom shouted. "Stop!"

"Do you yield? Will you face your fate?"

"Yes…"

"I didn't hear you."

"YES!"

He took the curse off him.

Tom looked up at his friends. "Take the curse off my friends.  I don't want to hear them scream anymore. Please.  I'll do what you want…just…stop invading my dreams, please…"

"So we are agreed?"

"Yes.  I'll do anything you want.  You win."

"Oh, I knew you would succumb to me, boy," he said, waving the wands over his friends. Tom crawled over to them and picked Sarah up in his arms.

"Just who are you anyway?" Tom inquired. "You said you're me."

"Yes, but I go by another name."

"What is it?" Tom inquired. "Who are you?"

The wizard reached out his hands and pulled down his hood.  Tom screamed.  The man had the face of a snake and red eyes.  He looked so _inhuman._

"No…this is what…I become?"

"Yes," he answered.  "And I fashion myself a new name…a name to drive fear into others…people will fear to even speak it." He lifted his wand and wrote Tom's full name in fire. Tom watched closely as the letters started to rearrange themselves.

I AM…

--

"Tom, wake up!" someone was shaking him.  

"Huh—what?"

"We were going to go to Diagon Alley today, remember?" 

It was Sarah's voice. 

Tom opened his eyes and looked at her. Finally, he was able to get out of that dream. But why did he have to wake up _after _he made that deal with the Dark Wizard?  
"Tom, are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm all right."

"Are you sure? Are you nervous?"

"No, I'll be okay."

"You look awfully pale and sweaty," she reached her hand to him but got up.

"I'm fine, Sarah."  He said firmly.

"Oh," she mumbled.  "All right.  I'll be waiting for you downstairs." She started for the door and he called to her.

"I'm sorry, Sarah," he sighed. "I had…a bad dream. I keep dreaming the same dream over…something's different every time. There's this wizard chasing me, following me and talking to me. He wants me to do a lot of bad things."

"Who is this wizard?" she inquired.

"He says he's me," he replied. "I started having these dreams before my third year. They got worse. Just now, in my dream, the wizard did something to me and I said that I'd do what he wants me to do.  You woke me up until he told me his new name."

"Oh, Tom," she said.  "It was only just a dream. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"Yeah, yeah, I hope that's all it was," Tom nodded. "Just a dream.  Well, let's go to Diagon Alley then, shall we?"

Thinking he'd probably loose Sarah if they used floo powder, Tom took her to Diagon Alley through the underground.  He showed through the Leaky Cauldron.  Sarah stopped and looked the place over.

"Sarah, what's the matter?" he asked. 

"I've been here before," she said.  

"You've been to the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Yes, a long time ago," she replied. "When I was little.  My mum worked here as a waitress." She walked to one of the empty tables.  "I remember sitting here as she worked."

"Then Sarah," said Tom. "You'd probably have a family vault. Your mother must've left money for you!"

"But don't you need a key?" she asked.  "My mum never left me a key.  I think my aunt and uncle have it."

"Let's go and look for them," said Tom. "You don't need to stay at the orphanage anymore, Sarah.  I know they're here somewhere. Did you have a cousin?"

"No, I don't think so," she answered.  "If I did, I don't really remember. It hurts to remember."

Tom started to think her aunt and uncle used memory charms on her. But why?  It didn't' make any sense.  Sarah was a witch. Her powers were probably very low and she didn't make anything happen when she was scared and angry. Was it probably because they _knew _she was a squib and they didn't want to frighten her when they used magic?  That was the only explanation. They already knew Sarah was a squib. Wizards and witches showed their magic when they were young kids. 

Tom always knew he was different when he hit the age of four or five.  That's when his powers started to shine through.  That was the same age Sarah was when she came to the orphanage. The whole time Sarah was at the orphanage, she didn't do anything.  But Sarah got angry at all. The only time she got angry was when Bobby and the others were being mean to Tom.  Sarah wasn't scared all the time either. For a little girl, she was pretty brave.  She looked scared when she first got here and she was too sad over the loss of her other to talk or eat, but even then, she didn't make anything happen.  Her relatives probably all knew this.  They could tell Sarah was a squib so they must've used Memory Charms on her.  But why didn't they give her a chance to use her powers?  Maybe if they took her in, they could help her.  Tom started to think he shouldn't let her aunt and uncle take her in. The more he thought of it, her aunt and uncle abandoned her the same way her father did.  Her father left her mother and daughter because they thought they were witches, at least he knew Sarah's mother was. Sarah's family members left her and her mother because her mother made an honest mistake, married a muggle and had a squib girl. Her family didn't want to have the burden of raising a squib so they didn't' come to her funeral and didn't take her in. That wasn't right.  Not right at all.  Poor Sarah deserved to be in a home. She still had family. Tom didn't.  Tom had second thoughts about searching for her aunt and uncle.  Tom would have to take care of her instead.

"Come on, Sarah," Tom took her hand and opened another door leading out of the pub.  "Wait until you see." 

Tom walked to the small alley and tapped his wand on the bricks. They pulled away and opened up to show Diagon Alley.

"Wow," Sarah breathed.  "This is where you go to buy your things?"

"Yes, it's really something, isn't it?" 

Sarah squeezed his hand.  "Let's go buy my wand."

"Okay.  Let's stop at my vault in Gringotts and see what I've got left.  I can still sell a few things."

Tom and Sarah went to Gringotts.  Tom looked at all the vaults, wondering which on her aunt and uncle's vault would be.  They probably had plenty of money. Sarah really enjoyed the cart ride and she was quite upset when the ride was over.

"Well, here's my vault, Sarah," he said, getting out.

"Oh, the ride is already over?" she pouted. "I was having so much fun."

"Well, you can ride it on the way back," he said, holding his hand out to help her out of the cart.  Tom opened the vault and entered the vault to pick up the money he would need.  It was getting quite bare.  He found some divination items he overlooked when he first came here.  There was the box of dark items.  He wondered where they came from. He didn't know his mother studied the Dark Arts.  Maybe it used to belong to his grandfather.  

Tom scooped some coins in a bag for Sarah and he made one for himself then took the box of Dark Arts items.  He wasn't sure what they were, but he knew where he could go to find out.  

"Sarah, this is your bag to buy your wand," he instructed handing her the bag of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts.

"Okay."  She took the bag and he picked up the box and went back out on the streets of Diagon Alley.

"You know what the coins mean, right?" Tom inquired.

"I sure do," she replied proudly, "the gold ones are Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles and the little ones are Knuts.  I remember you telling me."

"Good girl," Tom said, kissing her forehead without thinking.  "You can get a wand at Ollivander's." He pointed at the wand shop.  I'll be right back, okay?  Meet me right here when you're done getting your wand. Don't go anywhere."

"Okay." She walked into the wand shop and Tom walked up to Knocturn Alley. Tom would get his new robes with her later. He didn't want to bring her in this place with him. The wizards and witches there looked really creepy and he tried to make eye contact and did not answer to the hags asking if he was lost.  He knew it would scare Sarah.

He stepped into Borgins and Brukes and whom should he find there but Alaric with his father.  Alaric was pleased to see him finally walk into Knocturn Alley and Darien looked as if he wanted to tell him to get lost.

"Hi, Tom," said Alaric.  "Found the way to Knocturn Alley, huh?"

"Don't' talk to him, Alaric," his father scolded.

Tom cleared his throat and stepped closer to the counter.  Alaric noticed the silver badge on his robes and gasped.

"Tom!" he exclaimed. "You made prefect!"

"What?" his father inquired, "let me see."  He grabbed Tom by the collar and looked the badge over.  "Well, you've gotten lucky, boy.. I never would've guessed a half-blood like you to be a prefect. Alaric came close on his O.W.L's; he could've been prefect. He _deserved _it."

"Father, let him go," Alaric muttered.  "Tom wanted to be prefect since our first year."

"So you let him win, didn't you?" Darien demanded. "You let your half-blood friend here become prefect?  I expect more from you than that."

"That's enough," Tom hissed, pulling Darien's hand off him.  "I made prefect.  If you don't like it then that's your problem.  I'm not going to give up my badge if you paid me, Mr. Malfoy."

Darien's eyes narrowed and his lip curled into a sneer.

"Yeah, see?" Alaric inquired.  "I don't care if I didn't make prefect.  At least my best friend has and I can be there to help him with his prefect duties if they get too hard, right, Tom?"

Tom shrugged. "Okay, sure."

"Let's go, Alaric," Darien said.

"Fine.  Bye, Tom. See you on the train."

Tom turned to the old man behind the counter.  "Excuse me, I found these in my mother's vault but I don't know what they are." He placed the box down and opened it up.  "Could you tell me?"  
"Hmm, let's see now," he picked up a magnifying glass and picked up a ball with weird writing all around it.  "Who was your mother?"

"Carrie Star," Tom answered.

The man gasped and dropped the magnifying glass.  "Carrie Star?"

"You knew her?"

"Yes, she used to come in here all the time with her father!" He exclaimed.  "Her father, Marvolo Star worked in the Disposal of Magical Creatures Department.  He was really big on Dark Arts.  I remember this ball here—she got it here when she was about your age."

"Did my mom like the Dark Arts much?" Tom inquired.

"Not as much as her father," he answered.  "She was more into divination.  We do have some divination items here.  And this Ouija board…she got this here too."

"Well, I'm not too big on divination," said Tom.  "I'd like to sell it back."

"All right then.  Let's see now," he looked the times over and took out a quill, "a galleon for the ball…"

Tom nervously tapped his hinges on the counter as the storeowner tallied the items.  The shrunken heads seemed as if they were staring at him.

"I'll give you seven Galleons and four Sickles."

"Okay, thanks."  He said, taking the money and putting it back in his bag. "Do you have any books, sir?" 

"First time in Knocturn Alley, eh?"

Tom nodded.  

"Well, I don't have books here," said the storeowner.  "Just shrunken heads and things…but there is a bookstore down the road--The Bloody Bookstore. Go ahead and walk around.  There's a nice place to eat here too."

"Okay, thanks," he mumbled, walking out of the store.  He just wanted to find a book and get out of there.  Maybe he'll find a good book about runes in this place.  Runes became his favorite subject and he knew that runes were used in the Dark Arts.  He went to The Bloody Bookstore and looked around for a book on ancient runes.

"Tom?"

Tom turned and there was Olive.  "Hey, Olive."

"I thought that was you coming in here!" she exclaimed, rushing over to him. "I was just on my way to Dark Delights for a bite—care to join me?"

"That sounds great, Olive," he answered. "Let me just buy this book here."

"Wow," she said, looking at the title. "You really like Runes, don't you?"

"Yeah," he answered and he took out thirteen sickles for the book.  "My favorite class.  I'm really good at it."

Olive took his arm and walked with him outside to Dark Delights.  "They have only the best things here.  Of course, you can't buy what you need for school here, but there's still a lot of wicked stuff!"

"I know," said Tom.  

She looked at his prefect badge. "Oh, Tom! You made prefect!"

"Oh, yeah—great huh?"

"That's what you always wanted," she crooned, rubbing her head on his arm.  "I'm so proud of you!"

As they stepped to Dark Delights, Tom stopped. "Oh no…I forgot about Sarah!"

"What?" Olive asked.

"I left Sarah at Ollivander's," he said anxiously.  "To get her wand and that was a while ago—she's probably waiting for me and wondering where I am—sorry, Olive. We'll need to do this another time."

"Who's Sarah?" Olive demanded, folding her arms.

"I've got to go, see you at school!" he cried.

"But Tom, who the hell is Sarah?" he said after him. "Tom, wait!  Auuugh! Boys…"

Tom ran out of Knocturn Alley and back to the spot in Diagon Alley where he told Sarah to wait for him. But she wasn't there.

"Maybe she didn't get her wand yet," said Tom. He went to Ollivander's and she wasn't there either.  "Excuse me, Mr. Ollivander?"

"Oh, hello there, Tom," Mr. Ollivander nodded, "how is that wand working for you?"

"Just great, sir," Tom answered. "I sent a girl named Sarah to get her wand—she's about this tall—got strawberry blond hair?"

"Oh, yes, Sarah," Mr. Ollivander scratched his chin, "Just gave her wand about ten minutes ago.  Nine inches, unicorn hair, willow.   It really seemed to suit her."

"She just left—did you know where she went?" Tom asked nervously.  "She's not where I told her to wait for me."

"No, sorry, Tom. I haven't."

"Well, thank you, sir," Tom stepped back out of the shop and went around the street.  "Where could be Sarah be?  Did someone just…take her?"

Tom got scared and angry at the same time.  He told Sarah to wait for him. That's not like Sarah to disobey.  She never been here before. She could've gotten lost. What if she went to Knocturn Alley?"

Tom stepped into Flourish and Blotts. Sarah wasn't there. Thinking Sarah might have been hungry, he went to the ice cream shop and she wasn't there either.  Where was Sarah?  Tom asked around for her, going on explaining her appearance.

"Excuse me, ma'am? Have you seen a girl in muggle clothes walking around here?

"No, dear, I haven't…"

"Sir—have you?"

"No."

"There you are, Tom!" Olive came rushing out.  "Now who is this Sarah person? Have you been cheating on me? If you have, Tom Riddle…"

"No, Olive," Tom insisted.  "She's lost—I can't find her—you haven't notice a little girl walking around have you?"

"What little girl?" she inquired.

"Remember me telling you about the squib girl at my orphanage?"

"Yes…so?"

"I brought her here to get a wand," he replied.  "I told her to wait for me by Gringotts but she wasn't there!  If something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself."

"You seem to think highly of this girl, don't' you?"  Olive demanded.

"She's my only friend at the orphanage," Tom insisted.

Walking out of the Magical Menagerie, holding a custard colored fur ball in her arms, was Sarah.  "Hi, Tom!" 

"Sarah!" Tom shouted, rushing to her.  "I told you to wait for me!  Do you know how worried I've been?"  He grabbed her by the shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Tom," she mumbled.

Olive walked over to them, arms folded, eyebrow raised and wondering about their relationship.

"I just wanted to get a pet," said Sarah innocently, cuddling the Puffskein.  "I saw a girl with one of these, they were so cute so I asked her where she got it and she told me I only had to go to the Magical Menagerie…I hurried to buy this Puffskein and I was just on my way back to where you told me to wait for you."

"Sarah, why didn't you just wait for me?" he demanded hotly, almost scaring her.  "We could've gone to the Magical Menagerie together!  You know how I felt when I came back and I didn't see you there?  I panicked, Sarah. I thought something awful happened to you!"

Sarah frowned and tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Tom.  Really, I didn't mean to make you mad at me."

Olive smirked, thinking that Tom was going to send her packing. Instead, Tom sighed and hugged her. 

"What the?"

"It's all right, Sarah," he insisted. "I'm not mad at you.  Just try not to frighten me like that again, all right?  I was so worried about you.  I'm just happy you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she insisted.  "You want me to leave?"

"No, no, Sarah," Tom said. "We can continue looking around Diagon Alley if you still want to."

"I do."

"Let's hurry then, all right?"

"But—Tom—what about our date?" Olive inquired.  "We were going to Dark Delights."

Sarah looked at Olive and back at Tom.  "Tom, if you want to be with your friend, I can just go back home."

"No, Sarah," Tom said sternly. "We'll go back home together. I don't want to risk you getting lost."

"Tom?" Olive took his hand. "Our date, remember?"

"Sarah, why don't you go into Flourish and Blotts?" Tom inquired.  "You can check out a book. I'll be right there with you, okay? I'm just going to talk to my friend Olive."

"His _girlfriend, _Olive," insisted Olive proudly, her arms around Tom and narrowing her eyes at Sarah.

"Well, all right," said Sarah and she started to walk to Flourish and Blotts.

"Tom, why did you bring a squib here?" she demanded.  "She doesn't belong here!"

"Olive, would you leave her alone?" Tom asked wearily, "She's just a _kid._"

Sarah stopped, looked at Tom and Olive over her shoulder, frowned and continued back toward Flourish and Botts, the humming Puffskein in her arms.  _Just a kid, _she thought.  _That's what he thinks of me, a kid._

"So?" Olive inquired.

"Olive, you don't' understand," Tom explained, "Sarah's like my kid sister, that's all.  _You're_ the girl for me.  I'm just showing her around Diagon Alley so she can see what it's like and then she'll stay at the orphanage.  It's not like I'm taking her to Hogwarts with me."

"Well good," Olive said playfully, circling her arms around his neck, "because I want my prefect boy all to myself!"  
Tom smirked.  "Well, I'll see if I can manage it, all right?"

"All right," she said. "Go ahead and go…I think Sarah the Squib's waiting for you."

"I'll see you on the train," Tom explained. "We'll have plenty of time to talk later, okay?"  He kissed her on the cheek and went into Flourish and Blotts, to finish shopping with Sarah.

"Hi, Sarah," Tom said, walking over to her, "Did you find anything you liked?"  He patted her on the head.

"Yeah," she answered kind of stiffly. "They have nice books here—but what do I know—I'm just a kid."

Tom frowned as Sarah walked away from him and out the door.

To Be Continued 


	12. Submission

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 12

**Submission**

Tom bought his new books after selling a few of his old ones, sold his old robes and bought new robes for his own present for becoming the prefect.  Sarah sat and waited for him out Madam Malkin's and didn't speak.  He asked if she wanted an ice cream cone but she shook her head.

"No—that's for _kids._"

"Sarah, what is it?" he asked.  "You heard me talking to Olive, didn't? Listen…don't let her get to you.  She's just jealous."

"I guess," said Sarah.  "Well, I'm not just a kid anymore, Tom. I'm thirteen years old."

"Yes, I see," Tom said sadly.

"Are you done?" She asked. " Did you get enough?"

"Yeah," Tom nodded.  "I'm done shopping.  We can go back."

--

The rest of the summer before Tom went to Hogwarts, he and Sarah weren't speaking.  Tom wasn't sure what to say to her so he just thought she needed some time to cool off. Sarah couldn't stay mad at Tom anymore.  She knew it was wrong for her to run off when he told her to stay put.  He really was like her big brother but now that she grew a little bit, she started to have more than sisterly thoughts about him.  She felt a little jealous when Olive draped herself on Tom that day in Diagon Alley like she owned him.  Maybe they were the same age and an item but Sarah knew Tom first.  Sarah knew that Tom's feelings toward her changed a bit too.  She noticed it when he came back for the summer.  Neither of them could deny it.  Sarah was growing up into a young woman now and soon the boys would want to woo her.  Sarah didn't like any of the boys at the orphanage.  She liked Tom and only Tom.  He might've been three years older than she was but Sarah didn't care. She was the first boy she had any love for.  But maybe Sarah was wrong to be thinking like this.  After all, Tom was starting his new life at Hogwarts and he already had a girlfriend. Maybe she should move on too.  She wanted to fix things between them so she decided to get him a present.  

As Tom was getting ready to leave for Hogwarts, Sarah approached him.

"Tom," she said, "I want to give you something."

"That's nice Sarah, but I've got to go," he said hurriedly. "The Hogwarts Express leaves at eleven."

"It will only be a minute," she insisted.  "Tom, I'm sorry for the way I acted at Diagon Alley the other day.  I shouldn't have overreacted.  I think that girl Olive just rubbed me the wrong way."

"Hey, forget it, Sarah," Tom shrugged.  

"I thought I've grown up—but I still acted like a kid back there.  It was wrong."

"Forget about it," Tom repeated.

"Well," she pulled out a thin rectangular item wrapped in blue paper from behind her back.  "This is for you. Go ahead and open it."

"I bet it's a book," Tom guessed as he pulled the paper off.

Indeed it was.  But the book was empty.  On the cover it had his full name.

"It's a diary," Sarah explained.  "I wanted your fifth year to be memorable.  You'll be prefect and well—I just thought you won't miss anything if you write your most memorable moments and feelings in it."

Tom smiled. "Thank you, Sarah."

"Well, you'd better go now," Sarah sighed.  "Have a good term."

Tom bent down so he could hug her and kissed her on the forehead.  "Bye, Sarah."

--

Olive was saving Tom a seat on the train and she jumped up to give him a big kiss.  "I've missed you! Here, sit down…"

"Where's Alaric?" he asked as she tried to pull him down.  

"I don't know," she replied, cuddling up next to him.  "He's always late.  Come here and sit with me…"

"You know, Sarah," Tom said, "I'm supposed to be sitting at the prefect compartment."

"Oh," she frowned.  "Can't I sit with you then?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it.  I'll see you when we arrive to Hogwarts."

"But Tom," she said.  "Whom am I supposed to talk to? Alaric?"

He kissed her on the cheek. "I know you'll understand."

"Tom—Tom wait!"  She groaned leaned back. "Boys…"

"Well, look who I've got all to myself," Alaric grinned, sitting across from her. "Where's Tom?"

"He has to sit with all the prefects," she grumbled.  "This is so unfair!"

"Oh, poor Olive can't play kissy face with Tom," Alaric muttered.

"That's not funny."

"Hey, Alaric," Gwen said, coming up to him.  "All right if I can sit with you?"

"Sure…you can sit on my lap."  He took her by the waist and sat her down on his lap, making her giggle and Olive look as if she were about to gag.

"Where's Tom?" said Gwen, looking around. "He's always like the first person here."

"He's in the prefect cart," Alaric explained.  "He made prefect."

"He did?" she asked. "That's great! That's something he's always wanted.  He'll be a good prefect."  
 "I hope he's a better prefect than a boyfriend," Olive sighed.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll find time for you," said Gwen.  

"Yeah…sure…" she mumbled, looking out the window as Gwen and Alaric began to make out.

--

Tom played the role of prefect well.  All the first years looked up to him for advice or reported someone to him when there was something wrong. Some of the younger girls flirted with him and not to Olive's liking. Tom couldn't help it.  He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome.  Still, Tom didn't forget about his girlfriend Olive and they talked and played hooky after hours every now and then.  His nightmares wouldn't stop however.  The monster told him to get a move on.

"If you're done playing prefect now—get busy!"

"But I'm already busy as it is!" 

"When are you going to get to work?" the monster demanded. "Start looking for the Chamber of Secrets."

"I will," Tom said.  "I'm just taking it slow, so no one can suspect me. I could get caught and get expelled."

"The Chamber of Secrets is here somewhere. Go and find it."

"I'm trying," Tom replied. 

"Well, try harder!" the man with the snake-like face shouted.  "Time is running out."

Tom woke up and rubbed his head.  He really should try harder but the school was a big place. It could be anywhere. Tom got out of bed and reached in his trunk for his clothes and he came across the diary Sarah gave him. He saw his name on there and he thought…why was he still going by that name?  The dark wizard from his dream was writing his new name out from the letters of his name but then Sarah woke him up before he saw what they were. Tom shrugged it off, got dressed and went off to his lessons. He wondered about what the new name could be. Maybe the dark wizard was right. Why keep his filthy muggle father's name anyway?  Tom Riddle Sr. was a man he never knew.  The Dark Wizard was right about lots of things.  He _was _the Heir of Slytherin. He couldn't deny that anymore.  It was time he started to act like it.  

While he was in class one day—instead of working--he wrote out his full name on some parchment.  TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE.  He crossed out the "I" out of Riddle and the "A" from Marvolo and the "M" from Tom and wrote I AM.  That's all he saw from his dream when he was with the wizard.  What was he about to spell out?  Tom pulled his quill to his mouth and thought about something.  What did they call royal people back then?  Not Kings…there was no "K" in his name.  Count couldn't be it either.  He was thinking of a noble, an aristocrat, and a real head of something. Lord...that was it…Lord…

He wrote LORD after I AM then crossed the L from Riddle, the O from Tom, and the R and D from Riddle.  Now there were ten letters left.  What could he make up?  Was there a really strong wizard back then with this name? Tom had to think of a name from the remaining ten letters.

'Think, Tom,' he thought.  'Think!'

Could it be a word in Parseltongue? But Tom didn't know any Parseltongue words. He just spoke it when a snake was present. What could the name be?  Tom held his quill to his mouth and thinking it was a sugar quill for a second, he sucked on it and got the bad feathery taste.  "Ghuh."  
He hoped no one saw him and he looked at what he written again.  What could those last letters be?  It had to be a good name. It couldn't sound ridiculous. He stared at the remaining letters for a bit and they seemed to rearrange themselves. Then he suddenly saw it.  

Excited, Tom took his quill and wrote it down.  The name with the last ten letters.  It was brilliant.  _Voldemort.  _It had a nice ring to it. Voldemort.  He wasn't going to be Tom The Orphan anymore.  He was going to live like the Heir of Slytherin for now on. That's his real identity.  He hurried over to tell his friends in the common room after lessons.

"Tom, what's the matter?" Olive asked. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Tom said firmly. "Better than I've been in years—but it's not Tom anymore."

"What?"  she inquired.

"Okay—Riddle—what's up?" Alaric inquired.

"Not Riddle either." Tom insisted. "For now on, you can either call me the Heir of Slytherin or Lord Voldemort."  
Alaric and Olive exchanged glances.  Alaric grinned.

"You made up a new name for yourself?" he asked.

"I sure did," Tom answered.  "I'm Voldemort—not Tom Riddle anymore."

It took a while for his closest friends to get used to it, but they thought it was cool how Tom came up with a new name for himself, especially Alaric.  Tom tried to continue looking for the Chamber of Secrets but he still was not having any lucky. He was still dreaming about the dark wizard, Voldemort, his future self, but they didn't seem like nightmares anymore.  It was more like a way of communicating with him. He was giving him advice, guidance and encouragement.

--

"Still haven't found the entrance, haven't we?" Voldemort asked.

"I've looked _everywhere!_" said Tom  "I don't know where else to look.  It's got to be here someplace."

Voldemort walked around Tom.  "Think, Riddle, what is the symbol of Slytherin?"

"A serpent," Tom answered, "because Salazar Slytherin is a Parselmouth."

"Exactly," Voldemort said. "Now, all you need to do is find the entrance."

"But the chamber can be so big," Tom said, "How will I find such a big door with the picture of a snake?"

"Listen, Riddle, don't start thinking it has to be something big. Size does not matter.  It can be something small.  Something overlooked by everyone else. In the last place you'll ever expect.  It wouldn't be in the dungeons where the Slytherin house is, look at every small nook and cranny."

"Something small?" he asked.

"Yes. Something small…remember that.  This is a big job so remember--no one ever works completely alone."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"Get your friends to help you look," Voldemort replied. "That way you'll find the chamber of secrets faster.  Tell them to search for something with a serpent on it.  That will be the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. It's always in the last place you'd look."

"The last place I'd look," Tom said.

"Tell me, who are you?" Voldemort inquired, holding his arm to Tom.

"I'm you."

"Are you Tom Marvolo Riddle?"  
"No," Tom said firmly as Voldemort walked around him.

"Say it again, 'I am not Tom the half-blood anymore!'"

"I am not Tom the half-blood anymore!"

"Good," Voldemort said.  "State who you are."

"I am the Heir of Slytherin," said Tom.

"Louder."

"I am the Heir of Slytherin."

"Again."

"I am the Heir of Slytherin."

"State your purpose."

"I am to carry out Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"Starting with what?"

"Finding the Chamber of Secrets and cleaning Hogwarts from those unworthy to study magic."

"You have the power."

"Yes, I have the power."

"And the desire?"

"I have the desire!" Tom exclaimed.

"When are you going to strike?"

"Now! I will strike now!" Tom shouted, enthralled and excited, "I am Heir of Slytherin, Lord Voldemort! I am the greatest wizard in the world!"

"You are ready to face your destiny then, Heir of Slytherin?" Voldemort asked firmly, sounding like a football couch.  "You admit that I was right?"

Tom laughed.  "I don't' know why I fought you all this time.  I should've given in a long time ago.  This idea sounds great.  I _am Heir of Slytherin and I will show the world what I can do.  You were right.  I cannot deny it anymore. I am Heir of Slytherin."_

--

Tom told his friends to help him look for anything with a snake on it.  It didn't have to be big.  One time when Olive was in the bathroom on the third floor to brush her teeth, she chose the sink that didn't work.  She twisted the knob and looked it over.

"What's wrong with this tap?" she demanded, looking around it. There, she found it, a small snake engraved on the knob.  She brushed dust off it and stared at it.  She could not believe it. This was it.  

"A snake," she whispered, "this can be it. This can be the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets---I found it!"  Olive turned around and ran out of the bathroom to find Tom.  

"Tom! Tom!" she exclaimed, rushing to the common room. "I found it!"

"Don't call me Tom," he hissed.

"Sorry, Voldemort," she said.  "I found the entrance—at least—I think I have."

"Where?" he asked impatiently.

"In the girls' bathroom," she answered. "Third level."

"The girls' bathroom?" Alaric demanded, shocked. "This whole time we've been looking all over the dungeon for something with a snake and the entrance has been in the girls' bathroom? No wonder we couldn't find it!"

"Come on, Tom," Olive said, "I'll take it to you after dinner tonight."

They came to the bathroom and Olive told him to wait.  "Here, let me check it first." She walked in, checked the stalls and walked back out, nodding.  "It's clear."

He walked in and she pointed to the snake on the knob. "There it is."

Tom bend down and examined it. "Something small…" he grinned. "Well, it is always in the last place you'd look, isn't it?  Olive, you're amazing!"  he turned to her and gave her a big kiss on the mouth. She blushed and smiled.

"Oh, it was nothing," she whispered as Tom touched the snake just to see if it were real.

"I can't believe we've found it."

"How do we get in?" she inquired.  "There's got to be some kind of password."  
"Yes," said Tom, "and I know the password." He looked at the snake and his voice was a soft, low hiss.  The snake turned silver, started to spin and the sinks started to move. Tom pulled Olive back. There was a hole in the ground, only it was blocked up with stone.

"Someone's been here before," said Olive.

"Yes," said Tom, walking over to it.  "They were trying to stop me from finding it—but they underestimated the Heir of Slytherin." He pointed his wand at the hole and used a Cutting Charm to get through.  He turned back to Olive.  "Wait for me here.  I'll be right back."

"Can't I come with you?" she inquired.

"Not this time, Olive," Tom said. "Whatever is down there is very dangerous. I'm the only one able to control it."

"All right," she said, "hurry."

Tom kissed her again and jumped down the hole.  Olive bent down on her knees and looked at the gap.

"Be careful, Tom!"

Tom fell on a bed of rat skeletons and he pushed himself up. He must've slid down miles under the school. He pulled out hid wand and pointed it in front of him. _"Lumos." _

Tom walked around the underground cavern, careful not to crack his head on low-hanging stalagmites. He came to a pile of rocks and he groaned.

"Oh, the chamber's behind this!" he muttered.  He pointed his wand at the rocks and smashed itto pebbles, coughing through the dust and covering his hand to his mouth, he pressed onward until he came to a large door with snakes on it.  "I found it," coughed. "I've finally found it.  _Open." _

The snakes parted, the door opened and Tom stepped into the chamber. Large stone snakes were down the hall and he came to the statue of Slytherin. Tom ran to it and looked up at the face.  He thought about what he must do and then, it came to him.

_"Speak to me, Slytherin. Greatest of the Hogwarts for."_

The mouth opened and he heard something stirring inside it.  Tom walked closer as something slithered up and out the mouth.  It was a giant snake and it hit the ground. Tom jumped back in surprise.

"A _basilisk," _he said in surprise.  "The creature is a basilisk.  Of course, the king of serpents!"

_"Free," _said the basilisk, "free!" The monstrous-sized snake slithered to Tom and circled around him. "I thank you.  I hunger for blood.  Hungry."

"I believe you'd be here after a thousand years," Tom said.  "Stay here. I'll be right back."

"I'll be waiting."

Tom walked back out of he chamber and climbed out of the large pipe.  Olive looked at the grime dripping from him. 

"Ew! What happened?"

"The thing I slid down was a giant pipe," he replied. "There are a lot of them underground."

"What is the monster?"

"It's a basilisk," Tom answered, "the king of serpents.  It's perfect.  It's a giant serpent.  It has a mouthful of poisonous teeth but that's not the only thing deadly about it.  It has yellow eyes that kill when you look at them directly.  I'm going to need to do a few things before I let it into the school."

"What?" she asked.

"Let's go to the common room," Tom replied, "I'm going to need some help in this."

Tom explained to Alaric, Olive and his closest circle of friends in Slytherin House about the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, how they'll need to strangle the school roosters and be careful when he lets the basilisk out.  Really early in the morning, they went outside and killed the roosters. Tom wanted to run things smoothly. Nothing could go wrong.  It had to be perfect.  He pained _The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware on the wall to frighten the students.  Tom opened the Chamber of Secrets several times but the students weren't killed, but petrified.  Tom was having trouble trying to get the person to look at it directly in the eye._

"I need to plan this differently," said Tom.  "The person is always looking at a refection of the basilisk, I need them to look in the eyes if they die. We'll need to pick a good victim too."

"I know," Olive said suddenly. "Myrtle Mason!"

"How?" Alaric inquired, "tell her we've found a date for her?"

"Leave it to me," Olive said with a grin.  "Myrtle likes to hide in that bathroom all the time. This will be very easy."

"What've you got in mind?" Tom inquired.

"I tease her about something," Olive said, "I'll upset her and follow her to the bathroom, but I make sure it's all clear first, Heir of Slytherin, when she's crying, you can walk in and call the basilisk. It will be so easy."

"Wonderful," Tom grinned. "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow," she replied.

--

As Myrtle was heading to breakfast, Olive walked up to her with two glass mugs in her hands and grinning, lifted them to her eyes as if they were glasses.  "Look at me! I'm Myrtle Mason!"

Myrtle gasped and stepped back.   Olive cackled and handed them to Gwen.  She didn't stop the music now. She was just warming up. A crowd started to circle around her, egging Olive on.  Olive was the most popular girl in Hogwarts and no one liked Myrtle, and those who didn't like her only pitied her.

"Leave me alone, Olive," she said, stepping to the side but Olive got in her face.

"Oh, Myrtle," Olive said, "we were wondering if we could use your glasses for Herbology class.  They magnify everything—especially your big—ugly eyes!"

"You're so mean to me!" Myrtle cried.  

"And those frames," Olive continued, "what are they made out of?  Where did yu get those ugly glasses of yours?  The garbage?"

Myrtle covered her hands over her eyes, let out a loud sob and turned away.  Olive chased after her, saying mean comments about her glasses. 

"Go away!" she hid in the girl's bathroom, sat in the third stall and Olive pounded on the door.  

"Oh…go ahead and cry, Moaning Myrtle," she said, "cry because no one will ever like you and your stupid glasses and your _disgusting hair!  Myrtle the Mudblood has the ugliest glasses in Hogwarts!"_

"Olive Hornby, you'll get yours someday!" Myrtle sobbed by the toilet. "You just wait! You'll be sorry!"

Pleased with herself, Olive smiled and stepped back out of the bathroom.  Tom was waiting around the corner.

"It's done, Voldemort," she told him.  

"I knew I could count on you," he whispered, cupping her face.

"Can I come with you and watch?" she asked excitedly.

Tom smiled, "Oh, I don't think…"

"Please?" she inquired.  "I want to see Myrtle the Mudblood die."

"Very well," Tom nodded. "But don't look straight into the basilisk's eyes, all right?  He's hiding right under the entrance—waiting."

She nodded, took his hand and followed him into bathroom.  Tom began to speak in Parseltongue and the sink moved out of place.  Olive closed her eyes as the giant snake poked its head out.  Tom told her when it was safe to open her eyes.  Hearing a boy speaking in a made up language, Myrtle stood up, unlocked the door and stepped up.

"Go---" she began and she looked right into the great yellow eyes of the basilisk.  She went all ridged, as if she was hit with a Freezing Charm and fell down cold in the stall.  Olive smiled.

"Rest in peace, mudblood," she said nastily.  

Tom spoke in Parseltongue again and the basilisk slid back down the drain and the sink covered up the opening.

"Great work, Olive," said Tom as he put his arm around her shoulders.  "I couldn't have done it without you."  They walked out of the bathroom.

"So what do we do now?" Olive asked.

"We act casual---like none of this ever happened."

"What if no one finds her though?" she inquired, "It's not like no one will notice her missing."

"All right," Tom said, "you come after lessons are over…right before supper. You can come in during dinner and put on an act.  Try to make it convincing."

"How about this?" she inquired, clearing her throat and putting her hands to her face. "There's a girl dead in the bathroom—it's Myrtle! She's dead!" She put her hand to her face and pretended to faint.

"Beautiful."

An hour after Myrtle died, her ghost rose out of her body.  "Wait a minute," she said, "I can't die yet—I don't want to die.  I want to pay Olive Hornby back for this!"

Myrtle's body started to go back down and she floated around her body.

"Olive Hornby killed me," she said.  "Oh she'll pay for killing me.  I wasn't ready to go yet!"

--

Jacob Potter was prefect for Gryffindor House.  When he had Herbology as his first lesson, he noticed that Myrtle wasn't there. He did not know Myrtle very well except for the fact that Olive Hornby and about the rest of Slytherin House liked to pick on her.  He was working with her during Herbology as one of his lab partners for the week.  

"Where's Myrtle?" he asked Rodger Diggory, the prefect from Hufflepuff.

"I haven't seen her since this morning," he answered.  "When Olive Hornby was teasing her about her glasses."

"Yeah," added Lucy Bones.  "She never leaves her alone."

"I wonder who this Heir of Slytherin person is," Billius Weasley said, snipping the dying leaves from the plant.  

"I've always thought it was a legend," Jacob said.  "But…now that we know it's true, how is everyone supposed to be safe?"

--

Olive casually walked back into the girls' bathroom and pulled out her stick of lipstick, humming to herself.  There on the ground she found the lifeless Myrtle Mason.  She did her best to act shocked, dropping her tube of lipstick and covering her mouth to silence her scream.

"Oh no!  Myrtle!" Olive got down and force herself to touch her cold hand, hoping she wouldn't' catch any mudblood germs.  "Myrtle?  Are you dead? I'd better go get help! Help! Help!"

"Oh don't look so surprised," said a familiar voice, hovering right over her head.  She gasped and looked up. Myrtle's ghost was floating by the toilet where she died.  "So…finally come to see if I was alive, have you? Well, thanks you to, Olive Hornby, I'm nothing but a _corpse!"  _She made an annoying wail and pointed at her dead body.  "Look what you did to me!"

Olive backed up. "How—how in the?"

"I was so angry how you ridiculed me about my hair and my nose and why I'm not good enough to go to Hogwarts…and now you…pick on me about my glasses!" She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.  "Did you ever think about how it would make me feel?  NO!  Olive Hornby—miss perfect with her blond hair and blue eyes and her _perfect _boyfriend.  She never thinks about other people!  Well now, I'm going to show you what it feels like!  You killed me, Olive Hornby!'

"I did not," Olive whispered.

"If you hadn't teased me about my glasses," she sniffed, "then I wouldn't have hidden in this bathroom and died! Maybe I wasn't the best witch in this school, but you can't say I didn't try.  No one could say I didn't try. Unlike you, Olive, I worked hard. I knew you cheated.  Why is it that pureblooded witches like you that wind up in Slytherin always cheat? Are you afraid to break a nail if you put your back into it?"

"Myrtle—what—what are you doing?" Olive demanded.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

 She zipped through the air and got in her face. "_It's payback time!"_

Olive gasped and turned on her heel, running out of the bathroom.

"Go ahead and run, Olive Hornby!" Myrtle shouted. "But you'll never get rid of me!"

"Someone's dead in the girls' bathroom!" Olive shouted. "It's Myrtle Mason! She's dead! Cold as ice!"

Alaric and Tom looked up. Noticing that Alaric was grinning, Tom quickly nudged him in the ribs.  "You'll give us away, you fool!"  

"Oh," Alaric put on a shocked face, "Who's dead? What?"

"Professor Dippet!" Olive cried, looking paler than normal, sweat beading across her head.  "It's Myrtle Mason—she's dead! In the girls' bathroom!  Dead!  It was the Heir of Slytherin, from the Chamber of Secrets! It killed Myrtle!  Third floor!"

This sent all of the students into a panic.  Rubeus put his face in his hands and started to cry.

"P-poor girl!" he said.  "That's jus' awful!"

Jacob's younger brother, Harold a third year, patted Rubeus on the back and Rubeus turned around and gave him a tight hug, nearly choking him.  
 Professor Dippet did not know what to do.  He stood up, "E-Everyone, to your dormitories, quickly, prefects, lead your houses to your common rooms and be very careful!  Professors…we will go to the bathroom."

Tom cleared his throat and moved put on his prefect face.  "This way, everyone, follow me, I'm a prefect, come on."

Olive quickly went to his side.  "Tom, I've got to speak to you."

"Nice play, Olive," Alaric whispered.  "You actually did look scared."

"I _was _scared," she muttered.

"Wait until we get to the common room," Tom softly.  He looked behind him and projected his prefect voice. "Hey, keep up! Keep up!  You don't want the monster to take you away, now do you? Stay together! I don't care if you're scared!  And please, stay alert, this way! Hurry now!"

"Tom, listen," Olive whispered, "something's wrong."

"What do you mean wrong?" he demanded.  "Everything went fine."

"Yeah, Myrtle's gone," Alaric added.

"Oh, no she isn't," Olive said. "She's still here…"

"What are you talking about?" Alaric inquired.  "She died—you guys saw it happen."

"I meant her ghost," Olive said.  "Myrtle's dead but her ghost is still in the bathroom. She was waiting for someone to come and find her—and of all the people it was I—I was the one who sent her there. She's going to find out the truth! What do we do?"

"Olive, she didn't see us," Tom insisted. "The last thing she saw was the eyes of the basilisk."

"But her ghost is still in the bathroom," she said quietly so the other students didn't hear her. They were wondering what the monster was or if it was going to attack them any minute.

The scared little Slytherins hurried to their beds while the older classmen stayed in the common room. 

"This isn't good," Olive whispered, "she can probably be here right now…listening in on us…"

"Olive, don't worry," Tom said, "I'll take care of it.  I'll go over there and see what's going on.  She's probably still not there."

 "This is what I get for picking on her," Olive said.  "They'll probably close the school down for this."

Tom got to his feet.  "Maybe if I turn the _fake _Heir of Slytherin in, we'll wont have to worry about anything.  Just relax, I'll handle everything."

"Really?" Olive asked, dabbing her eyes.

"Well, am I the Heir of Slytherin or not?" Tom demanded, puffing himself up.

"Who?"

"Oh, I'll think of someone," Tom nodded and he stepped out of the common room, up the dungeon steps to the third floor and waited as the professors carried a dead body on a stretcher out of the bathroom. Myrtle's arm was hanging limply underneath the blanket covering her body. Tom tried to put on a sympathetic face and watched them carry her down.

"What are you doing here, Tom?" asked Professor Dumbledore.  "It's not safe at this time."

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore," said Tom, "I know, but I just had to find out for myself if the rumors were true.  What's going to happen to the school?"

"Professor Dippet is thinking of closing the school," he replied.  "We'll send the students home tomorrow."

"Close the school?" Tom asked edgily. "But why? I don't have much of a home to go to, Professor."

"It will be the best thing for Hogwarts."

"But Professor, if the person behind all these attacks was caught," said Tom quickly, "then maybe Hogwarts will stay open?"

"Why, do you know something, Tom?" 

"Er—no—sir," Tom replied.  "I will be heading back to my dormitory now."

Tom walked toward the dungeons, opened a door and found Rubeus Hagrid speaking to something in a box.

"Evening, Rubeus," said Tom.

Rubeus turned quickly. "Tom—what're you doing here?"

"They're going to close the school down unless these attacks are stopped," Tom said coolly.  "I don't think you meant to hurt anyone Rubeus, but monsters don't make good pets."

"No, it wasn't Aragog!" Rubeus cried. "Aragog would never hurt anybody!"

"Stand aside, Rubeus."  Tom said sternly.  "Stand aside."

Rubeus didn't move.  Tom shot a spell from his wand whatever was in that box scuttled out and away. Tom turned and pointed his wand after it. 

"Aragog!" Rubeus called. "Aragog!"

Tom shoved his wand in Rubeus' face. "They'll take your wand for this, Rubeus.  You'll be expelled."

"But I swear—I didn't do it—I didn't!"

"What is going on here?" demanded a voice behind them. "Riddle!  What are you doing?"

Tom turned around to see Jacob Potter coming into the room.  "You ought to keep your eye on those in your house, Potter, if you don't want to loose any points."

"What are you talking about?" Jacob asked., he looked to the shaking and worried Rubeus.  "Rubeus, are you all right? Why aren't you in the dormitories? What's the matter?"

"I didn't do it, Jacob," Rubeus replied.  "Honest."

"Rubeus was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets," Tom said, "and let the creature out.  It attacked those people and killed Myrtle Mason."

"Why would Rubeus do that?" Jacob asked.  

"He probably didn't mean to hurt anyone, Potter," said Tom.  "He probably just let the thing out for exercise."

"You're talking about Aragog?" Jacob inquired.

Tom smirked, "Oh, so you know?"

"Of course I know," Jacob muttered. "Rubeus showed it to me when he got here. He got Aragog when he was an egg.  I told Rubeus not to keep him in the dormitory because acromantulas—spiders--like the cold and dark…that's why he kept him in a box here in the dungeons."

"You knew," said Tom. "Tell me, Potter, when these attacks happened, why didn't you tell him to take his animal away until now?"

"It wasn't Aragog," Jacob hissed. "He wouldn't hurt anybody out of respect for Rubeus.  He fed him scraps from the table.  I've even seen him and he's harmless. He's still pretty young.  Aragog wasn't the monster in the chamber of secrets. He knew what it was."

"Oh, he did?" Tom inquired, trying not to show he was nervous.  The thing about spiders fleeing from the basilisk, he forgot…how much did that spider tell Rubeus?  "What was it?"

"Aragog never told me," said Rubeus. "He said he wanted to get out. He was afraid of it."

"It must be quite a monster if giant spiders are afraid of it, Riddle," Jacob said, stepping between Rubeus and Tom.  "It couldn't have been Aragog.  How could it be…if it was afraid of the real monster. That'd be like saying Aragog was afraid of himself!"

"Your words Potter."

"How do we know it's not someone from your house, Riddle?" Jacob demanded.

"Oh, is that what you think?"

"Open your eyes, Riddle," Jacob said testily, "the _Heir of Slytherin, the Monster of Slytherin, _do you really think someone from Gryffindor House would be interested in anything Slytherin?  Think about it, Riddle.  It was someone from your house—and you're framing Rubeus to protect that person—that's what this is all about!"

"Where's your proof?" Tom inquired.  

"All right.  You want proof?" Jacob said, playing all the cards he had in his hand. "Your girlfriend decided to tease Myrtle again and she chases her to the bathroom she dies in." 

"What?"

"Oh, don't give me that, Riddle," Jacob grunted, "everyone knows you're an item."

Tom did his best to stay cool.

"We don't see Myrtle all day. I get to Herbology class—you see—we were working on a project together and she wasn't there.  Olive really upset her this time.  The next thing we know, Myrtle's dead, and who to find her but the person who sent her there.  Oh, she really put on a good act…coincidence would you say?"

Tom narrowed his eyes. "So you think…my girlfriend set the monster loose on all those people?"

"It's no secret she doesn't like muggle borns," said Jacob.  "We know her favorite thing to do is give Myrtle Mason a hard time.  She was killed in a girls' bathroom, you really think Rubeus followed Aragog into the bathroom and told him to kill her?"

"I didn't say Rubeus meant to kill anyone," Tom muttered. "He could've just left the thing out for exercise."

"I 'ave never let him out!" Rubeus roared.  "Never! I always kept him in a cupboard."

"It's true,' Jacob added. "I told Rubeus he couldn't keep Aragog in the Gryffindor Tower so he kept him in the cupboard this whole time.  It couldn't have been Aragog.  It doesn't make any sense—why would Salazar Slytherin keep an Acromantula in the chamber if spiders were afraid of the monster?  If Aragog _had _attacked the students, he would've done it only because he was hungry.  Those who didn't die were petrified.  An Acromantula can't do that.  They would've been eaten.  When Olive cam running into the Great Hall at dinner today, she didn't say anything about any bite marks on Myrtle.  Why would Aragog kill for pleasure instead of food? Rubeus did not open the chamber of secrets and the monster is not Aragog.  Rubeus went into tears when Olive told everyone she found Myrtle dead!"

"Oh yes—because he knew that this spider pet of his did it!" Tom hissed.

"I didn't do it!" Rubeus cried.

"We'll see when Myrtle's parents get here tomorrow with the Ministry of Magic, Potter," said Tom through clenched teeth.  "Then that thing will be slaughtered."

"No!" Rubeus shouted. "You can't!"

'Aragog is probably in the Dark Forest right now," Jacob said, "We won't be able to find him.  I'll be speaking to Dumbledore about this."

"Oh, go ahead, Potter," Tom nodded.  "See if it will do any good.  I'll see you in the morning when the Ministry of Magic gets here."

Tom turned around.

"I know you're hiding something, Riddle!" Jacob shouted after him.  "You're protecting somebody.  I'll find out what you're hiding."

"What makes you think I'm hiding anything?" Tom demanded over his shoulder.

"Oh I saw how you were playing prefect when Olive came to dinner.  You were in a hurry to get everyone from your house back to the common room, weren't you?  I know you're hiding something."

"I don't know what you're playing at, Potter.  I know you're trying to protect Rubeus, but do you really think the Ministry of Magic will believe him?  He'll be expelled.  You might as well take him back to the common room and help him pack."

"I'm not the only prefect trying to protect someone here," said Jacob.  "Someone from yur house has done this. I smell a big snake…."

Tom left the room and walked back to his common room in the dungeons.  It was so seasy to pin the blame on Rubeus Hagrid—but what if Jacob knew the truth?

"Jacob—I didn't do it," said Rubeus shakily.  "I didn't, you know I wouldn't."

"Rubeus, let's just go back to the common room, okay?" Jacob asked. "I don't think Dumbledore will let you be expelled."

--

Telling the Ministry that Rubeus did not open the Chamber of Secrets didn't help much.  They took Tom's word over Rubeus' because he was a model student and prefect and Rubeus liked to make pets out of monsters.  Jacob talked until he was blue in the face that Rubeus would never hurt anyone and Tom was mistaken.  He told Myrtle's doctor father that she didn't have any bite marks on her body so it couldn't have been Aragog.  They broke Rubeus' wand not many pieces and the board expelled him.

"But I swear—I didn't do it!" he wailed.

"Wait, Armando," said Dumbledore, "Rubeus has no where to go.  His father died last year.  Vincent McKinnon is thinking of retiring from the gamekeeper soon.  We should keep Rubeus here and train him as gamekeeper."

 "Yeah, that's perfect for Rubeus!" Jacob exclaimed. "You can't send him back home."

"Now Albus," Dippet said, "he has been in plenty of trouble already, keeping a big spider in our school and letting it out to attack people."

"But--," Rubeus began.

"Why don't you go back to your dormitories," Dumbledore said. "We will take care of this."

"Come on, Rubeus," Jacob groaned, taking the bigger boy by the sleeve

--

Later that evening, Jacob saw Tom talking to his friends about what happened. The Minister of Magic gave him a golden trophy and he bragged about it to his friends. Angered, Jacob went to confront him.  "I knew you set up Rubeus."

"You're not still on that, are you?" Tom inquired.

"Someone in _your _house let that monster in the school," Jacob muttered, "and you blamed it on Rubeus so you could get an award!"

"Potter, why don't you prove it?" Alaric demanded.

"You're going to apologize for what you did publicly or--,"

"Or what, Potter?" Tom questioned, stepping forward so their faces were just an inch apart.  "What would you do?"

"A broom race, Riddle," Jacob answered firmly.  "What will it be?"

"You know he's not good on a broom as you are!" Olive hissed. "That's not fair!"

"Fair?" Jacob demanded, turning his face to Olive's, "Fair?  Was it _fair _for you to kill Myrtle Mason because she was muggleborn?  Now Myrtle might have been muggleborn and she wasn't as gifted as some, but that doesn't mean she didn't try hard."

"Going sweet on mudbloods, are we?" she inquired.

"Watch your mouth!" Jacob shouted.  "I know you had something to do with Myrtle's death. I smell a snake."

Olive cleared her throat, "I don't know what you're talking about, Potter."

"So, you really think you can keep the truth from coming out, do you, Riddle?" Jacob demanded. "The truth will come out—maybe not tomorrow—but someday, everyone will know you set Rubeus up and you're covering for someone in your house.  You are to apologize to Rubeus for setting him up, or we're having a broom race. What will it be?"

"What's the matter, Potter?" Alaric inquired.  "You don't want to have a duel with V..."

Tom shook his head at Alaric.  Jacob raised his eyebrow.

"Tom?" he continued.  "You afraid you're not going to win?  Let's play fair…"

"You don't know anything about what's fair."

"Oh, I'm sure Tom will let you get the first hit."

"Fine," Tom said finally, surprising his friends. "You want a broom race, Potter? Then you shall have one."

"Good," said Jacob. "Meet me outside on the Quidditch field."

"I'll be there," Tom muttered.

"Tom," Olive whispered, "You're not a good flier."

"You don't even have a broom, remember?" Alaric added.

"Then I guess I'm going to have to use yours, won't I, Alaric?" Tom demanded.

Alaric and Olive exchanged glances.  Nevertheless, Tom and Jacob met on the Quidditch field, brooms in hand.  

"We are going to fly from this goalpost to the hoops on the other end, tag them,," instructed Jacob, pointing, "over the lake to the other side where the railroad is, tag the ground and come straight.  The winner will be the one who gets back first.  You can still apologize for humiliating Rubeus. It's not too late, Riddle."

"Shut up, Potter," Tom hissed.  "Let's end this."

"On your brooms," said Terrie Johnson, holding up her wand, "ready, set, go!" she sent up red sparks and the two prefects set off.  Tom worked hard to keep the broom steady. He knew if they were on a horseback race he'd beat Jacob, no questions asked.  Jacob was in the lead.  Jacob tagged the hoops and soared over the lake, Tom not that far behind.  Tom tried not to look down at the water and kept his eyes steady. Jacob flew down, touched the railroad tracks and zipped past Tom as he was coming over the lake.

"Hurry, Tom!" Olive cried.

Tom pushed himself to go faster.  He wasn't goig to lose to Jacob.  He touched the railroad tracks and as he went over the lake the second time, he lost his grip on the broom and fell into the lake as Jacob made it back to the goalpost.

"Jacob wins!" Billius shouted.

"Oh no, Tom!" Olive gasped, rushing to the lake with Alaric.  The Gryffindors cracked up laughing, rolling on the ground.

"Are you all right?" Olive asked Tom as he swam back to shore.

Tom pushed himself up, shook his wet, jet-black haired head and slammed Alaric's broomstick into his chest.  He walked over to the field, staring Jacob down, too angry to find the words. He merely pointed at Jacob and sneered.  Jacob looked back challengingly.

"I guess I'm the winner, Riddle."

Tom took in a deep breath and pushed his hair back.  "Wait until the Headmaster hears about this—Potter.  You will be expelled too."

"It would be a lot simpler if you just told the truth, Riddle," said Jacob. "For everyone."

"A little late in the day for Quidditch practice, isn't it?" Dumbledore said, walking onto the field.

Both prefects gasped and started speaking at once.

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter pushed me into the lake--,"

"It wasn't right for him to brag about his trophy, Professor so I challenged him to a broom race if he didn't apologize."

"I did no such thing."

"You didn't catch the real culprit."

"Prove it, Potter."

"That's enough!" Dumbledore shouted over their voices.  "Both of you to your dormitories.  I'm going to have to take twenty points from both house."

"But Professor Dumbledore," Jacob began.

"I regret having to take points from my own house, believe me, Jacob, I really do," Dumbledore said sincerely, but there was a hint of anger in his eyes, "but I thought I knew you better as a prefect to come here at this hour for a broom race—for whatever the reason may be.  To your dormitories."

Tom gave Jacob one last angry stare and walked off with Olive and Alaric.

"Professor," Jacob said, "maybe I was wrong to challenge him to a broom race but he was saying mean things about Rubeus. I know he set him up.  Rubeus didn't do anything wrong."

"I know, Jacob, I know," Dumbledore nodded.

"You don't think he did it, do you?"

"Oh, of course not.  I know Rubeus is innocent," Dumbledore insisted.  "Now, I've talked to Professor Dippet and he has agreed to letting Rubeus stay on as gamekeeper."

"What about Tom Riddle?" Jacob inquired, "I think he's hiding something, Professor.  I _know _it."

"Now, Jacob, I admire the fact that you want to see the real culprit caught," Dumbledore said, "but I don't think we will find out who it is right now.  I will keep an extra close eye on Tom.  I'll advise you not to go picking any more fights.  Remember, my help will be given to those who will need it, all right?"

Jacob breathed a sigh of relief mixed with frustration.  "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now please remember to use your flying ability wisely, Jacob," Dumbledore added, his blue eyes twinkling, "We wouldn't want to lose our best Seeker, now would we?"

Jacob had to smile.  Dumbledore knew how to make everything all right.  "Yes, Professor."

--

Jacob felt a lot better knowing Dumbledore had everything under control keeping a close eye on Tom everyday. It was too much a risk for him to open the Chamber again to for another attack so Tom had to come up with another idea.  Voldemort from his dark side told a great idea.

"If you can't do it yourself," he said, "work through someone _else."_

"Work through someone else," Tom said, walking back and forth.  "How do I get someone else to do it? I'm the only Parselmouth and that means that only I can open the Chamber of Secrets."  He glanced at the book of dark runes and picked it up, looking up a way to work through someone else.  He could put his self into something, some object, so when some innocent and naïve person came across it, thinking it was just an ordinary thing, Tom would have them doing his very bidding.

But what could he use? Tom looked around. What could he use?  He had to have something here. 

And then he found it. The diary Sarah gave him before he left on the train this term. It was perfect. He could put himself in the book, and when someone else wrote in it, he could write back to them and take them over. It was brilliant.

Laughing to himself, cleared everything he had written in the book and started to write some difficult to read letters on the front page with a special kind of ink.  It was so simple, so brilliant.  No one would ever think that a harmless, silly little book could do so much, no matter whose hands it would happen to fall into.  His friends didn't now about his plan.

"Tom, Rubeus Hagrid has been caught," said Alaric, "go on, you can open the Chamber of Secrets again."

"So what if Jacob Potter beat you at that broom race," Olive muttered.

"I can't," Tom said impatiently, "Dumbledore seems to be wherever I go now.  I think Potter might have tipped him off that I'm up to something."

"But what about the Chamber of Secrets?" she asked.  "The basilisk?"

"Oh, I haven't forgotten," he grinned.  "Since I won't be able to do it, I'll have to work through someone else."

"Who? How?"

"With this," he answered, holding his diary out.

"Your diary?" Alaric inquired with a confused look on his face.

"I've put myself in this diary," Tom said, holding it up.

"Hey, can I see it?" Olive asked excitedly over his shoulder. "What've you written about me?" She opened to the first page to find that it was blank. "Voldemort, why is it blank?"

"Just because you don't see any writing," Tom replied, "don't mean I'm not there.  Someone will come across it and use it to open the Chamber of Secrets again."

"Where'd you get it?" Olive inquired.  "It has your name on it."

"It was a present from Sarah," he answered.

Olive pursed her lips together. "Sarah the Squib gave _that _to you? And you're going to _use _it?"

Tom rolled his eyes, "Oh, Olive…"

"I think it's a great idea," said Alaric quickly, "how does it work, my lord?"  
"Write in it," Tom prompted.

"Write?"

"Yes. Go ahead."

"Write what?"

"Anything...write your name…"

Alaric cleared his throat, took his quill and dabbed it in his inkbottle and scribbled, _My name is Alaric Malfoy._

Underneath Alaric's words, new words appeared, in Tom's handwriting. _Hello, Alaric Malfoy, my name is Tom Riddle._

Then the words disappeared.

"Disappearing ink," said Olive.

"Yes, then no one will know about the book," Tom explained.  "So if the reader gets any idea what they're doing, they won't be able to prove it."

"Wow," Alaric mumbled, "you're really are in it, aren't you? But how can you be _in _there…and _out _here at the same time?" He pointed into the book and at the room.

"A simple little trick, as all," Tom insisted. "Now, someone will think this is just an ordinary diary but when they start to write in it, they will see that it's something more…that there is someone inside the pages.  I can get that person to open up to me, tell them all about themselves and I will get strong with everything they put into me.  I will be able to get them to do things for me, like opening the Chamber of Secrets, strangling the roosters and painting the messages on the walls."

"Perfect!" Alaric gasped.

"Oh, it gets better," Tom said excitedly.  "I can bring the person into my past—and see what I've done.  I can show them the day I opened the Chamber of Secrets, the time we killed Myrtle and attacked the others…"

"How about when Sarah the Squib gave you this book?" Olive demanded, arms crossed and lips pressing together.  
"Quiet, Olive!" the two boys hissed.

"So they can see things you've done?" Alaric inquired. "Will you see them?"

"No," Tom answered.  "It will be like they're watching television."

"What's television?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, never mind." He said, waving his hand.

"I'd like to give it a try—can you send me to the time you opened the Chamber of Secrets for the first time?"  
"Yeah, but you'll have to write in it for it to work," Tom answered.

"All right."  

Alaric picked up his quill again and wrote, _Can you show me when you opened the Chamber of Secrets for the first time?_

Under Alaric's request, came Tom's reply.

_Of course I can, but close your eyes when the basilisk comes into view._

Alaric was pulled into the book like a vacuum.  He was standing with Olive and Tom in the bathroom and the sink started to move.  He talked to them and waved his hand in their faces but they had no idea he was there.  Tom kissed Olive and since Olive didn't know Alaric was there, Alaric kissed her too and jumped down the pipe after Tom. 

"Oh, disgusting," he groaned as slime ruined his robes. "My father is going to kill me…"

They fell on the ground of rat bones.  Alaric jumped up, scared and brushing himself off.  He went after Tom who was heading to the darkness.

"Oi, wait for me!" he called out, though he knew he couldn't hear him. Tom broke the rocks blocking the path to the Chamber of Secrets and Alaric shielded himself and brushed the dust from his clean hair.  Tom opened the Chamber and Alaric hurried in after him. He gasped when he saw the giant statue of Salazar Slytherin.

"It's Salazar Slytherin!" He exclaimed.  

Tom spoke in Parseltongue, the basilisk came slithering out of Slytherin's mouth and fell on the floor.  Alaric closed his eyes, wishing he could see the basilisk.  Then he felt something pulling him back, out of the chamber, out of the pages of the book and he fell on the ground of the Slytherin Common Room.

"Well, what do you think?" Tom asked.

Alaric brushed the dust from him. "Filthy…"

"Oh, yes, I should've warned you about that."  Tom grinned.

"So?" said Olive.

"Oh, I kissed you," Alaric winked making Olive look like she was going to curse him. "Nevertheless, my lord, that was brilliant," Alaric added, "absolutely brilliant. My father will be so sorry he didn't agree to adopt you."

"Who will you give the diary to?" Olive inquired. "Leave it tucked away somewhere in the dormitory?"

Tom closed the diary and handed it to Alaric.  "Here, Alaric.  Didn't you say you were going to be a school governor?"

"Yes," he answered slowly, "but why would…"

"Hand it down," Tom ordered. "Don't let your son use it right away.  Wait some time."

"How much?"

"Oh, I don't know," Tom retorted, "fifty years or so—when people have forgotten about the Chamber of Secrets and what happened here.  Get your sons to be school governors to, and your grandsons, you'll have quite a story to tell them."

Alaric grinned.  "Sounds like a plan."

**To Be Concluded **


	13. Break Me, Shake Me song chapter

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 13

Break Me, Shake Me

**I do not own HP or Savage Garden (too bad…the singers are hot!)  I chose this song because I think it best describes Tom turning into You-Know-Who and now…You'll—Know—Why! Haha…made a funny! This chapter will be long so I hope you have the time.  I don't really want to split it up so it will go well with the lyrics of this song.**

_I never thought I'd change my opinion again_

_But you moved me in a way that I've never known_

_You moved me in a way that I've never known_

When Tom got off the train, he wasn't only greeted by Mr. Paten, but Sarah as well. It was nice for Tom to have someone to talk to. It was a really pleasant surprise. Their relationship became stronger each day. Tom gave Sarah her first real kiss the day after he got back. She had no idea that he killed a student at Hogwarts.

Tom read something in the paper about a rich polo champion by the name of Tom Riddle—his father.  Tom gasped at his portrait.  They looked so much alike.  _Too _much alike.  He remembered the dream he had about his mother's prediction.  She had predicted that was going to kill his father.

_"You should do it," _said Voldemort in his head. _"He's caused you so much pain.  Kill him tonight."_

Tome gave in to the prompting.  Voldemort was taking over Tom's body more and more each day.  He had become too weak to fight back and too eager about this power Voldemort kept talking about. Tom had already received a taste of it while he was prefect, opening the Chamber of Secrets, setting the king of serpents into the school, attacking all those muggleborns and killing one.

While everyone was asleep, Tom crept out of the backdoor and walked out of the orphanage down the road.  He walked up the road, to the giant house on the hill, intent to carry out the murder of his father.  He stopped when he got to the house. It was so big, so fine.  Tom could have lived here if his father wasn't so thoughtless. He'll make his father pay for abandon him. He'll make him pay dearly for this.  He went to the back of the house and pointed his wand to the doorknob.

_"Allohormora!"_

The door clicked and Tom invited himself in and looked around.  He saw the portrait of his muggle father on a horse in a polo outfit and threw it to the floor. He walked up to the drawing room where all three Riddles were sitting.  Elderly Mrs. Riddle screamed and backed away.  Tom Sr. stared while Mr. Riddle approached him.

"How did you get in here?" he demanded.

"Out of the way, muggle," Tom Marvolo Riddle muttered, raising his wand.  "_Avada Kedvara!"_

"Dad!" Tom Sr. gasped.

"Kurt!" cried Mrs. Riddle.

Tom looked at Mrs. Riddle. "_Avada Kedvara_!"

Mrs. Riddle went down, her eyes open.  Tom looked up at the young boy.

"Look, if it's money you want, take it and go," he said.

"I'm not here for money," the Heir of Slytherin hissed.

"What then?"

"Don't act like you don't know," he muttered.  "Think back…think back sixteen years ago…you didn't really think she was lying, did you?  Carrie Star, the greatest seer in the world?"

"Wait, wait a minute," Tom Sr. mumbled, backing into the wall, pointing "you're—you are—"

"That's right," Tom Marvolo Riddle smirked, "I'm the boy.  I'm your son…the one you abandoned before I was born.  I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Tom Sr. gasped. "She didn't…I told her not to give my name to…"

"To what, a freak?" Tom demanded. "Too bad for you…for both of us…you didn't want your _freak _of a son to have your name and I didn't want to be named after you any more than you did.  You pompous, self-righteous fool! Did you really think she was lying?  You thought you could just walk away, did you?  Thought you could hide from the Heir of Slytherin, didn't you?"

Tom Sr. opened his mouth but nothing came out.

_But straight away you just moved into position again_

_You abused me in a way that I've never known_

_You abused me in a way that I've never known_

"What do you have to say for yourself now?" Tom Marvolo Riddle questioned angrily, "_Speak!"_

"I'm—I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Tom Marvolo Riddle laughed. "You're sorry? Is that the best you can come up with?  You think that makes up for sixteen years?  Can you imagine the nightmares I had? The nightmare I'm _living? _You can't comprehend what I've been through!  You have no idea!  Sixteen long years when I had to live in pain and turmoil—turmoil you caused—you could've prevented this. If you had just stayed with my mother…"

"You think I'm insane?" Tom Sr. inquired.  "How was I supposed to live with the likes of someone like—a witch? She was a witch!"

"You killed her!" Tom snarled. "My mother died giving birth to me.  She died because of _you! _Do you know what I had to live with?  I hate you! _I hate you!"_

"Please—have mercy," Tom Sr. fell to his knees, "I am very sorry. I was young.  I didn't know what to do.  I'll tell you what. I'll make it up to you, son.  We can make up for all those years."  He crawled to him and attempted to wrap his arms around his legs. You look just like me…just like me…"

"Get your filthy hands off me, muggle!" Tom exclaimed.  "You should've thought of this years ago!  What, you think I came here to run into your arms? You think I want to be your son now after the pain you caused me?"

"You have my name—you look just like me."

Tom began to hear Voldemort speaking. _"Kill him. What are you waiting for? Go ahead. Kill him! Kill him I say!"_

"I despise the fact that I carry your name," Tom sneered.  "And I despise it even more that I look like you!  Well, not to worry.  I've made a new name for myself, _father, _so you won't have to worry about a freak carrying it.  You should know what it is before you die." Tom raised his wand to his father's head.  "_I am Lord Voldemort.  _Good bye, father, you filthy muggle."

_"Kill him! Now! Now!"_

"No, please!"

_"Avada Kedvara!"  
_A flash of green light escaped Tom's wand, hit his father and killed him.  He fell on the ground, eyes and mouth open in a silent scream. Tom stared at him. Voldemort started to speak in his mind.

_"Very good.  Well done."_

But the other part of Tom couldn't take his eyes of his father.  "What—what have I done?" he asked, sounding like a child. "I didn't—did I?  I just…no…I just killed my own father…my own flesh and blood."  
_"Stop it, half blood!  He was asking for it!  Your mother predicted this would happen! It is your destiny."_

"But I…still had the choice," Tom mumbled.  "How could I do such a thing? I've become what I hated most…a bully…a killer…I'm a monster.  I've become an animal!"

_"You did what you were meant to do," _Voldemort hissed at the back of his head.  

Tom reached his hands to his black hair. He was on the verge of a mental break done.  "Oh no…oh no…they Ministry of Magic will find out.  I'll get expelled. I'll go to Azkaban. How could I be such a monster? He was begging for his life and I _slaughtered _him…I killed him like an animal!"  Tears started to leak out of his brown eyes.  "What's…what's happening to me?"

_"Get a hold of yourself! Have you forgotten who you are?  You are the Heir of Slytherin.  You are not Tom the Orphan anymore.  You are Lord Voldemort. Don't forget that.  You came here to kill him and you've done that.  It is your destiny, Heir of Slytherin._"

Tom got down to his knees and looked at his father's face.  "I'm so sorry…Father…I didn't mean to. He made me."

_"Do not shed tears for the likes of him!  He is not worth it!  He is the reason why you became an orphan."_

Tom swallowed. Voldemort's words began to sink in.  

"You are right," he said slowly, "I had to do it."

_"Ah good, better hurry."_

--

The word about the Riddles' deaths traveled quickly in the papers, on the radio and on the television.  Tom had second thoughts about what he did and at the same time, he enjoyed how it scared everyone.  No one could figure out the causes of their deaths, who killed them and why.  Voldemort enjoyed it more than Tom did.  He thought it was funny how Frank Bryce, the gardener, was arrested for their death.

"They arrested the gardener," Tom chuckled.  "Do they think he fed them fertilizer?"

When Frank Bryce told the police he saw a boy with Tom's description was walking about the grounds, Tom grew slightly worried.  Miss Smith didn't suspect him or anyone else in the orphanage.  No one in the village knew about Tom.  However, Sarah had a feeling that Tom killed those people. While he was shaving his face in the bathroom, Sarah approached him.

"You killed them, didn't you?" she asked.

Tom cut himself in surprise. "What?"

"Frank Bryce said he saw a boy with dark hair, tall, pale around the grounds the night they died," Sarah replied.  "And that's exactly what you look like, Tom."

"What makes you think it was me, Sarah?" Tom asked nervously.

"Their last name was Riddle," she said firmly.  "That's the same as yours.  You told me many times how you hate your muggle father for leaving your mother when she was carrying you.  You said you wished he was dead."

Tom shaved the last part on his face and wiped the cream off.

"Well?" she asked impatiently, "did you?"

Tom patted his face and looked at Sarah. She was giving him that stare with her pale green eyes. He could never lie to her when she was looking at him like that.  He sighed heavily.

"Yes."

"Why, Tom?" she asked. "I don't understand. Why would you kill your own father?"

Tom pulled her closer to the bathroom and locked it so no one could see or hear them conversing.  "Sarah, sit down." He put the cover seat down on the toilet and sat her down.  "Listen, I had to do it."

"You had to?" she inquired, unconvinced. "Why, did you just go up there to speak with him and you killed him out of self defense?  Or did you murder him, Tom? Did you murder your father and grandparents?"

"Something like that," Tom answered.  He knew she wouldn't understand the truth so he made it up.  "I came there to see him. I had to see them and they…thought I was burglar.  One of them picked up a shotgun. They were going to kill me so I killed them."

"You didn't have to kill them," she said.

"Yes, I had to, Sarah."

"You could've used something else," Sarah insisted. "You could've used a spell on the gun so it wouldn't fire.  You're lying to me, Tom Riddle.  Please, just tell me the truth. Why did you kill your father and grand parents?"

_"Kill her," _he heard Voldemort say in the back of his mind.  _"Kill her. She'll give you away."_

'No she won't,' Tom said mentally, 'I can convince her not to give me away. I'm not going to kill Sarah.  I love her.'

"Tom?  Are you all right?" Sarah asked. "You look like you're fighting with yourself."

She got it head on—because Tom _was _fighting with himself.  He's been fighting with himself for years.

Tom cleared his throat. "All right, I went over there to kill them.  I was just very hurt.  They were just not as understanding about magic as you are, Sarah."  He touched her face.  "I was just so angry."

"Tom, I think you should see someone about this anger," Sarah suggested, "It's going to ruin your life. Maybe I should tell the police this."

"No, Sarah, don't," Tom insisted. "Please, they'll lock me away in Azkaban Prison. You don't want me to go there, do you? It's an awful place. They have these, these _things _there called dementors. They live off your emotions. Dementors can make someone go mad. I don't want you to visit me in that place, Sarah. I know you don't want to see me there either. Promise me you won't tell anyone, please, Sarah?  The Ministry will take me away from Hogwarts and won't let me learn magic.  They'll take me away from you—you don't want that, do you, Sarah?"

Sarah twisted her hands nervously in her lap, "Tom, maybe if you told someone about these nightmares you are having, of the dark wizard following you around and telling you to become him.  Perhaps someone will understand and get him out of your head. This dark wizard…he represents all your fear and anger and sorrow.  He's the darker side of you. If you don't find a way to get him out of your head, he'll take over your body.  He'll turn you to a monster.  You're no monster.  Monsters aren't born. They're created. He might be the reason you did this.   I know you wouldn't hurt anyone, Tom.  Never. I know you better than anyone."

"Of course, Sarah," he got down on his knees and put his hands over hers. "Yes…the monster from my dreams…he's taking me over but I can take care of it on my own.  I'll be all right.  Just don't tell anyone, please? Promise me you won't."

"All right, Tom," Sarah answered. "I'll keep it a secret—for you."

"Oh, thank you, Sarah. Thank you." Tom pulled his head down to her lap. "I knew I could count on you.  I knew I could."  
Sarah hummed and stroked Tom's thick black hair, rubbing his neck and face. Tom sighed and closed his eyes. It made him feel so contented, so secure.  He never had moments like this with anyone else before.  He started to forget about the darker side of him. That he decided to become this Voldemort person. 

"I'm worried about you Tom," said Sarah.  

"I'm all right," he said.  "I'll be okay."

"Oh Tom," she sighed.  "I love you. I've always loved you."

"I love you too, Sarah."

--

The next two years at Hogwarts for Tom went quickly.  Myrtle's ghost still followed Olive around so Tom and Olive had to end their relationship so Myrtle didn't pick up on anything.  Tom had to keep quiet about his being Lord Voldemort too. If Tom went to Professor Dippet about Myrtle's ghost now, they'll probably know about the truth of her death. Tom heard a group of Hufflepuffs in the library talking about their family.  One of them, someone in his year, Robert Bones was speaking.  

"Yeah, my dad had a sister," Robert explained, "She was two years younger than him.  We didn't see her much."

"I don't remember a lot about her," added Robert's little sister Kelly who was a fifth year.  "We had a cousin too, but I can't remember her name."

Tom walked around the bookcase and eavesdropped closer.

"It was Sarah," Robert replied.

"Oh yeah, Sarah.  She was my age, wasn't she?"

"That's right."

Tom had a strong feeling the Sarah they were talking about was the Sarah he grew up with in the orphanage. Sarah the Squib, the girl he thought as his sister and just recently, something more.

"Our Aunt Elizabeth got really sick and died," said Robert.  "I think it was a broken heart because she married a muggle.  He left her.  Kind of sad, really.  I wish muggles were more understanding about magic."

"Robert," said Tom, walking to the table and making the Hufflepuffs flinch in surprise.  

"Tom—"

"I couldn't help overhearing," Tom said, folding his arms. "You said you have a cousin? Sarah, right?"

"Y-yeah," he answered.  

"Sarah Grimes?"

"I think that was it."

"Do you know what happened to her when her mother died?" Tom questioned.

"Well…"

"Oh, you don't? Let me tell you then," Tom said firmly.  "I know Sarah Grimes, your cousin.  She's a squib, but you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Huh?"

"You didn't take her in when she was all alone," Tom continued.  "She showed up at an orphanage, the very same orphanage I go to for the holidays.  You wouldn't mind telling me _why _you didn't take her in, would you?"

"I guess…we didn't know how to reach her," Robert said nervously.

"Wrong.  Your mother and father, _her _aunt and uncle wouldn't raise her because she was a squib!" Tom hissed, slamming his hand on the table.  "Because she had no magic of her own. Your parents used memory charms on her so she wouldn't remember any magic.  You know what it was like for Sarah to learn she wasn't a real witch?  You have any idea how it hurt her that she couldn't come to Hogwarts? All she ever wanted was to come to Hogwarts and learn magic.  Your family didn't want to help her."

"We—we didn't know she was a squib," Robert mumbled.

"You lie," Tom said through his teeth.  "Why didn't your family take her in?  Did your father not have enough money, not enough space for a squib?  Sarah is a very sweet girl and she lived up as an orphan.  Your parents could've changed that.  Why is that you were able to come to Hogwarts and not her? Why?"

"Tom…" Robert began.  "We didn't know Sarah was as squib. We didn't notice that she was using any magic when she was scared or angry."

"You could've waited," Tom said. "Sarah hardly ever shows any fear or anger.  She's the sweetest person you'd ever want to meet.  She's your cousin…you could've gotten to know her…but now, I don't think you deserve after what she had to go through, living like an orphan."

Tom turned on his heel and left.

_So break me shake me hate me_

_Take me over_

_When the madness stops then you_

_Will be alone_

 Graduation was typically hard for Tom Riddle.  Everyone's parents were there to congratulate him or her but no one was there for Tom.  He looked around.  Potter's muggle father gave him a hug. His brother Harold, now a fifth year was laughing with their second year sister Karen.  Robert Bone's parents—Sarah's uncle and aunt—were there too.  

Maybe Tom should've asked Sarah to come to the graduation.  Why didn't he think of it until now? He wondered what Sarah was up to.

--

"What?" a fifteen year old and blossoming Sarah asked. She was sitting in Miss Smith's office.  "You've located my father?"

"Yes, Sarah," Miss Smith answered. 

"How?"

"Well, he's called here," Miss Smith replied. "He read about you in the paper, your singing and piano talent."

"So, he wants to take come and get me?" Sarah inquired.  "That's what he wanted?"

"Yes, dear. He was quite anxious to come.  He'll be here shortly."

Sarah knew she should be happy but she really wasn't. Why hasn't her father come to get her earlier?  Was it because he just now thought of her when he was reading the paper this morning about the time she played piano for some school function?  Something wasn't right.  She forced herself to smile.

"That's great.  I'll go upstairs and pack then."

"Better hurry, dear. He'll be here any minute."

Sarah hurried upstairs not to pack or tell the girls he father was coming back for her, but to write a letter to Tom.  She knew this was the day he was graduating but she had to take the chance and hope her letter would find him.  

_Tom,_

_I just got done talking with Miss Smith.  She said my father wants to raise me now.  I don't think it makes sense. Why would my father suddenly want to take care of me now?  I'm worried.  Please come to the orphanage soon._

_Love,_

_Sarah_

She tied the note to Snowflake, a snowy white owl Tom gave her the last time they went to Diagon Alley so they can write to each other.  Snowflake took off out her window.  Sarah opened her old yellow suitcase she had when she first came to the orphanage and packed her clothes and belongings. But she had more stuff now than the time she came here.  She didn't have just clothes, but she had books and a wand and a Puffskein named Fuzzy. She didn't want her father to take her away.  Something just didn't feel right. Maybe when he'll learn that's she's a squib trying to be a witch, he won't want to take care of her. Sarah sat on her suitcase to try and get it latched when a car pulled up next to the orphanage and a man in a hat and coat stepped out and knocked on the door.

"That must be him," she said.

Someone opened the door and invited him in. She heard him talking to Miss Smith about legal stuff.  

"I'll go and get Sarah," she heard Miss Smith say.

Sarah tried to get all her stuff together as Miss Smith walked up the stairs entered. 

"Sarah, your father is here."

"Yes, ma'am, but," Sarah mumbled, "my suitcase—all my stuff—"

"Oh," said Miss Smith smiling, "yes, that does make a problem, doesn't it. Not to worry, your father has brought you a suitcase." She held up the large black suitcase in her hand.

"Thanks," Sarah said, "tell my father I'll be down in just a minute."

"All right," Miss Smith left the room and Sarah pushed all of her clothes and shoes into the larger suitcase while she kept her wand and books in the smaller one. 

"Okay, Fuzzy," said Sarah, picking up the yellow-brown fur ball and setting it on her shoulder as she walked out of the room, carrying two suitcases. "Time for us to go home."

Fuzzy hummed just like it always did when contended. Sarah took a deep breath and started walking down the steps. Hearing footsteps, the man talking to Miss Smith turned and looked up. Sarah froze and nearly fell down the stairs. He was smiling, but there was something in his eyes Sarah did not like.

"Hello, Sarah," he said.  "Why don't you come down here so I can get a good look at you?"

Sarah continued to step down the stairs, but slower this time.  The more time she took going down the stairs, the more time Snowy could spend finding Tom. She reached the bottom of the stairs and set down the larger suitcase. It was quite heavy. Her father held out his hand and Sarah shook it.

"My, aren't you pretty," said Mr. Grimes. He had the same strawberry blond hair as hers but his eyes--his eyes were this creepy, creepy shade of gray.  It was like he didn't even have a soul.

Sarah smiled, "why, why thank you."

"And—what is that?" Mr. Grimes inquired, pointing at the thing on her shoulder.

"This is, Fuzzy," she answered.

"Oh, a stuffed animal?"

Sarah was about to tell what he really was but he saw the look in Miss Smith eyes.

"Yes," she answered.  "It makes a humming noise.  It's called a Puffskein."

"Well, why don't we go home?" he asked.  "I'm sure you're waiting to see your new home."

She nodded and he picked up her large suitcase as she put both hands around the handle of her smaller yellow suitcase. Sarah smiled at Miss Smith.

"Thank you, Miss Smith, my time at the orphanage was very," Sarah said politely, "very nice.  I will miss this place.  Please, will you say goodbye to Tom for me?"

Mr. Grimes raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"He's a friend of mine," Sarah answered.

"Oh, of course, Sarah, I will." Miss Smith said.  "I'll let him know as soon as he gets back from school."

"Thank you, Miss Smith."

Mr. Grimes held the door for her and he pressed his hand on her lower back as she walked out of the door.  Sarah felt as if a wave hit her.  Perhaps her father was just showing good manners by holding the door for her and but Sarah felt like that was not the case. Mr. Paten was hitching up the team, getting ready to pick up Tom at the train station.

"Hello, Mr. Paten," she said, walking up to him. "I just wanted to say goodbye."

Mr. Paten smiled and took off his hat.  "Ah, yes, Sarah, I'm happy for you."

"You're going to pick Tom up?" she asked.

"Yes. Sorry you can't come with me to say goodbye to him."

"I know," said Sarah, nodding. "I miss riding in the carriage to come see Tom after his school. Well, Mr. Paten, goodbye, sir." She held out her hand and shook Mr. Paten's. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Sarah."

"Come, Sarah," her father said, holding passenger door for her.

"Goodbye," said Sarah, waving at Mr. Paten. Sarah stepped into the car and Mr. Grimes drove her to her new home.

_So you're the kind that deals with the_

_Games in the mind_

_Well you confuse me in a way that_

_I've never known_

_You confuse me in a way that I've_

_Never known_

--

Tom was sitting in his usual compartment talking with his friends and listening to what the other graduated students planned to do with their lives. Tom looked out the window just in time to see Snowflake flying along with it, tapping it with his beak.

"Snowflake!"

Tom opened the window and pulled the owl inside.  Alaric looked at it. Olive groaned. "From Sarah?"

"Who else?" Tom inquired, taking the note from his leg and opening it up. When he read the note, a wave of panic swept over him.  "Oh no."

"What is it?" Olive asked.

"Sarah's father has come back."

"So?"

"He left her when she was little," Tom explained. "It doesn't make any sense to me why he's coming to pick her up now."

"Think about it, Riddle," Alaric said, "you introduced me to Sarah before. She's a real peach."

"What did you say?" Tom demanded, his dark eyes narrowing.

"Well…she's…pretty," Alaric replied, "for a squib, anyway.  I guess her father saw her somewhere and thought…"

"You're sick," Tom hissed, getting to his feet and leaving the compartment to speak to the driver.

"Oh sure," Alaric muttered, "I'm sick and he's the one who opens the Chamber of Secrets."

"Shh!" Olive hushed, her finger pressed to her lips. "Alaric!"

Tom made his way down the front of the train.  The witch with the food cart smiled.

"Oh, can I get you something, love?"

"No thank you," he said. "I just need to speak with the driver. It's urgent."  
"But no one can--," she began.

"You have to let me speak to the driver," Tom insisted. "One of my friends back home is in trouble. Just let me speak to him."

"Oh, very well," she let him through and Tom walked to the driver, taping him on the shoulder.

"Can I help you with something, son?" he asked.

"Yes, I need you to speed up," Tom answered.

"Speed up?"

"That's right," Tom said firmly.  "Make this train move.  If you don't hurry then a girl will probably die.  Please, she means the world to me." Tom reached into his back pocket and pulled out Sarah's photo.  "Get this train moving. If you don't…I'll use a speeding charm on it. Either way…this train is going to go faster."

The driver pushed the speed lever forward.  "Very well."

"Thank you," said Tom and he went back to his compartment and sat down.

"Where'd you go?" Alaric inquired.

"To speak to the driver," he replied.  "I told him to speed up the train."

"What for?" Olive asked.

"Sarah's in trouble," Tom explained.  "I can feel it."

Olive groaned.  "For Sarah the Squib?"

"Listen, Olive," Tom said firmly, "she might be just a squib but she happens to be very important to me.  She needs me.  I was the first person that girl saw when she came to the orphanage…I was the one opened the door. She didn't speak for three years, to anyone and I was the first person she spoke to in those three years.  Try to show some more respect, okay?"

"Touchy," Olive muttered.

Tom looked out the window. If anything happened to that girl he'd never forgive himself.

_So break me shake me hate me_

_Take me over_

_When the madness stops then you_

_Will be alone_

_Just break me shake me hate me_

_Take me over_

_When the madness stops then you_

_Will be alone_

--

An hour later, the Hogwarts Express arrived at the station.  Forgetting about the trunk and needing just the wand he had in his robes, Tom jumped off the train and through the wall.  He could see Mr. Paten coming to pick him up in the carriage. Instead of waiting, Tom ran up to the carriage.  It made Tom feel bad not to see Sarah on the carriage, waving at him like she did the other times when Mr. Paten took him to the train station and back.

Mr. Paten made the team stop and Tom climbed up the carriage.

"Hello there Tom," he began kindly.  "How was your last year? Say, where's your stuff?"

"Hi, Mr. Paten, how are you? Great, thanks. I didn't need it anymore." Tom said impatiently, "let's just hurry to the orphanage, all right?"

"But—I—ah—"

Tom took the reigns away from him. "Why don't I drive?" he said, giving the reigns a quick hard swish and making Mr. Paten nervous.

"Careful, Tom," said Mr. Paten, watching him closely.  "Where's the fire?"

"Didn't you know that Sarah's father came back?" Tom demanded.

"Oh, yes, that fellow," he said, "He left with Sarah about the same time I went to pick you up."

"What was he like?" Tom inquired patiently.

"Well, I met with him shortly while I was hitching up the team," Mr. Paten replied. "He seemed like a nice fellow.  Pity Sarah had to leave before you came home. She really wanted to speak to you before she left."

"Yeah…I would've liked that too."

Tom reached the orphanage and he jumped off as Mr. Paten went to unhook the team from the carriage.  Tom ran up the stairs, slammed the door behind him. 

"Where's Miss Smith?" he demanded as he came into the front room.

"In her office I think," replied Elle, surprised.

Tom stormed into Miss Smith's office while she was making an important call.  "Miss Smith, I need to speak with you."

"Not now, Tom," she said, covering the phone with her hand, "wait just a minute—ah—yes—sir, I'm still here? Yes. Yes…"

Tom paced the room, breathing hard as if he had run all the way here.  He pushed his hand on the hang up button and took the phone away.

"Whatever your damn call as about," Tom said, "It can't be so important as you sending Sarah's father come pick her up."

"Tom Riddle—" Miss Smith began, "do control yourself.  Sarah asked me to say goodbye before she left."

"Why did you let her father take her? What is _wrong _with you?" Tom slammed his hand on her desk.  "Sarah's father left her when she was a little girl. Why would he come get her now? Now when she's becoming a young woman?  You'll let just anybody come adopt these kids, wouldn't you, just to be rid of them?"

"That's not true," she said.

"Where is Sarah?" he demanded.  "Where did they go?"

"Just a moment," she said.  "I have his address right here." She handed him the address.  Their new home was in Derby and Tom hadn't taken his appiration test yet and he didn't have a broomstick, not that he was that good on a broom anyway.

"In Derby?" he inquired. "That's pretty far, Miss Smith."

"Yes, I know," said Miss Smith, "but you can still keep in touch."

"You don't get it, do you, Miss Smith?" Tom questioned, "Her father could be a criminal!"

"We checked his record," she said. "We didn't' see anything criminal about him."

Tom laughed, shaking his head.  He drew in a deep breath and pointed at Miss Smith.  "Miss Smith, nothing had better happen to Sarah, you understand me?  Because if _anything, _I mean, _anything _happens to that girl, it will be on _your _head!"  He walked out of the office, slammed the door behind him and hurried to the stables as Mr. Paten was just leading the horses in.

"Mr. Paten, can you saddle up Buttercup for me?" he asked.

"Ah—well—" Mr. Paten mumbled.

"Oh, forget it," Tom groaned, "I can do it myself.  I know how to saddle a horse."  He picked up a blanket and put it over Butterscotch's back, took a saddle and tightened it around Butterscotch, pushed the bit in her mouth and took the reigns. He saddled the horse in a record time of ten seconds, put his foot up in the stirrup and took off down the road.

"Tom--what—where are you going?" Mr. Paten called after him.

"Please, Sarah," Tom said as he made the horse gallop as quickly to Derby as possible, "please be all right.  If anything, anything happens to you, I don't think I can go on."

Voldemort's voice entered his mind. _"Why waste your time on the squib, Tom?  What's the point?  You have better things to do."_

"I can do that later!" Tom hissed. "I've got plenty of time!  Right now my priority is getting to Sarah before something happens to her!"

--

Mr. Grimes stopped the car at their home in Derby and let Sarah out. "Welcome to your new home, Sarah."

Sarah walked out and looked at the house. It did look quite cozy. Mr. Grimes pulled her suitcase out of the backseat and walked her up to the door, his hand on her back. Sarah shivered.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, the wind," she said.  "Cold."

"I see," he said, unlocking the door, "well, I'll let your warm up once we get inside."

 "What room is mine?"

"Up the stairs, second room on your left."

"Thank you," she said, taking the suitcase, "I'll just go upstairs and pack then."

"All right," Mr. Grimes said after her. "I'll get started on some supper. I bet you're hungry."

"I appreciate that," said Sarah, going up the stairs, suitcases in hand.  As she went up the stairs, she felt his eyes on her, looking up her legs, up her skirt.

Sarah opened the door to her room. It looked quite clean with almost everything pink, the bedspread, the walls, the carpet and the dresser.  He must've been planning this. Sarah opened the drawers and took Fuzzy off her shoulder and set him down on her bed.

"Sleepy, huh, Fuzzy?" she inquired.  Sarah picked up her suitcase and unlocked it.  As setting her clothes into the dresser drawers, Mr. Grimes opened the door. Sarah gasped and turned around.  

"So, do you like your new room?" he inquired. "I thought you'd like the color pink."  
"Yes, it's very nice," she answered, trying not to let her fear show.  "I like pink." She continued to unpack.

He walked closer to her.  She started to feel very, very uncomfortable. Her instincts told her to make a break for it, but where would she go?  She hoped that Tom would come soon. Mr. Grimes reached his hand to her back and turned her around.

"You are very pretty," said Mr. Grimes, excitedly. "So pretty."

"T-thank you," she answered.  

His hands went to her coat and pulled it off.  "You can take your coat off now."

"Oh, yes…I guess I can…"

He started to unbutton her blouse. She gasped and backed away.

"What—what are you doing?" she demanded.  

"Shh," he put his finger to his lips.  

"You can't—you're supposed to be my father!"  He covered her mouth and pushed her to the wall. "Help!"

She made a muffled scream as he ripped her shirt, the buttons popping off.  Hearing his master in trouble, Fuzzy hopped off the bed, made an imitating growl and bit Mr. Grimes in the leg.

"Fuzzy!" Sarah exclaimed. "Fuzzy!"

Mr. Grimes grabbed the cute, custard colored fur ball and tossed him out the window. Sarah went toward it.

"Fuzzy! Why did you do that?"

"Just be quiet," Grimes hissed, grabbing her and pulling her toward him. Sarah screamed and tried to jerk away.  He started to unzip her skirt. Sarah looked around for something to protect herself, anything.  There was her wand in the yellow suitcase but she was never able to do a spell.  She couldn't get to it. Sarah could not believe it. She comes home and her father, own father is a child molester—a pedophile--a rapist.  Then she heard the door open downstairs. 

"Sarah?"

"Up here!" Sarah screamed, taking a step to the door. "Up here!"

Footsteps came through the room and up the stairs, someone was running fast.  "Sarah? Sarah!"

"In here!"

The door opened and Tom was standing in the doorway.  There was a fire glowing in his eyes that proved he was a force to be reckoned with.  

"Oh, Tom!" Sarah cried. "Tom!"

"So you're Tom," Grimes muttered, his arm around Sarah's front.  "And how would you know Sarah?"

"_You _are going to get your hands off her right now!" Tom shouted, raising his wand.  "You let go of her now, muggle!  I said let go of her!"

"Go ahead, boy! Do it—do it and you'll hit Sarah."

"Fool!" Tom snarled. "This is not a gun, this is a wand!  I can do whatever I want with it!"

Sarah looked at her smaller yellow suitcase on the floor.  She tried to get it to open.  Do _something. _

_"Accio Sarah!"_

Even with Grimes grabbing at her, Sarah was pulled away from Grimes to Tom like he was a magnet.  Tom held one arm open to grab hold of her. Sarah put her arms around him and looked behind her.  Grimes looked surprised.

"Don't look, Sarah," he said. "Don't look!"

Sarah closed her eyes and pressed her face into Tom's face.

"I'm snog her and make you watch!" Grimes hissed, lunging to Tom.

"You stay back!" Tom said, a huge wave of anger seeping through him. He wasn't so angry before, not even when he killed his own father.  Maybe his own father probably didn't deserved to be killed, but this sicko did.

_"Crucio!"_

Grimes fell to the floor, screaming and shaking, Sarah took one look and Tom pushed her head away and told her not to look.

_"_You die now! _Avada Kedvara!"_

Even with her eyes closed, Sarah saw the pink room become smothered in green light.  Grimes was dead. Sarah started to shake against Tom.  Tom put both arms around her, unable to take his eyes off of Grimes dead on the floor.  The fire was still raging in him. If he had been too late…if he hadn't come in time…

"I knew, I knew you'd come," she mumbled.  "I knew something wasn't right when Miss Smith told me he was coming for me. Then when he came to pick me up, he touched me…I could feel something wasn't right…Oh Tom…I was so scared but I couldn't do anything!"

"It's all right, Sarah," Tom whispered.  "Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine."

"He through Fuzzy out the window!" she wailed, turning around but he turned her back to him.  "That—that sick—diluted—"

"No Sarah, don't look!" he cried. "Don't waste your pretty eyes on him!  He's not worth to be in your presence!"

"He couldn't wait to get me into bed," Sarah muttered, shivering in Tom's arms and sobbing.  "Oh Tom, I've never been so afraid before in my whole life!  H-how did you find me?"  
"I got your owl," he replied, "while I was on the train back to Hogwarts.  I knew there was something wrong and told the drier to hurry.  Asked Smith why she let your father take you and where you went.  Took one of the horses toward Derby and—well—you know how things happen to me when I'm mad and scared. I guess I got so scared something was going to happen to you so I've somehow apparated with the horse right outside."

"I feel so helpless," Sarah groaned, "I could've protected myself if only I was a real witch.  I've tried, went over my Kwikspell lessons over and over and I know…if you hadn't come when you did, Tom, it would've been too late!"

"Hey, hey," Tom whispered, "it's over, all right. Your sicko father is dead now. He's never going to bother you again, you hear me? It's not your fault your magical powers haven't developed much yet."

Sarah nodded and rubbed her eyes.  "Well, what do I do now?  Try to find my aunt and uncle?"

"No, you don't want to look for them, Sarah," Tom said. "I know who your cousins are—they're the Bones—and I think it's better if you stay with me anyway. They've forgotten about you."

"Why didn't they take me in?" Sarah inquired.  "They're my family."

"I don't know, Sarah," Tom answered sadly.  "But don't worry—I'll keep you with me, all right?  I'll take care of you.  I'm going to make something of myself, a real powerful wizard and I'm going to bring the powers that are deep inside you to the surface so you'll be a real witch. You won't have to be a squib anymore, Sarah. You'll be a witch…and we'll be together, side by side. How does that sound?"

"All right," she nodded. "Let's go…I'll go with you anywhere, Tom Riddle."

"Good, where's your wand?"

"It's in my yellow suitcase."

"Now don't you look at that muggle father of yours," Tom said. "You close your eyes.  You forget all about him and what he tried to do to you.  What he _has _done to you.  I want you to forget him. He doesn't deserve to exist in your memory, all right?"

"Yes."

Tom opened her yellow suitcase and gave her wand to her. Sarah, not wanting to remember her father when she looked at her ripped blouse, took it off and put a sweater on.  Tom removed his school robes, put them around her and picked her up in her arms because she was still shaking.  He carried her down the steps and out of the house where Buttercup was waiting. Sarah gasped.

"Buttercup!"

"That's right," he set her down on her feet and got up first. Tom held his arm out for her, picked her up and set her down behind him. Sarah put her arms around Tom's waist and leaned against him, finally starting to settle down.  Tom moved the horse to a gallop and they went on to travel the world until Tom could really become Lord Voldemort.

--

_She says, "I can help you, but what do you say?"_

_Cause it's not free baby, you'll have_

_To pay_

_You just keep me contemplating, that_

_You soul is slowly fading_

It took a very long time, just like his Defense Against Dark Arts teacher told him. Tom traveled to many different, dark places, talked to many different, dark people and did a lot of different, dark things.  Sarah was afraid of these people; Tom kind of was too but having Sarah with him by his side seemed to make him more comfortable with the whole thing than it was for her.  If he had to do this alone, he wasn't sure if he could go through with it.  Part of the reason why he was doing it was for Sarah anyway.

Tom had to drink the blood of snakes and sleep on snakeskins for days and days.  Because he was a Parselmouth, he was immune to venom.  He did a lot of dark rituals, studied the dark arts until there was no tomorrow and while he was doing all this, he was teaching Sarah how to use her wand and basic spells and potion making.  Finally the day came when Tom was strong and experienced for the ritual to transform him into Voldemort.  Sarah was scared but he insisted that it was going to be all right.

"I have to do this so I can turn you into a real sorcerers," he said before he went to the alter, "don't worry, Sarah. Be brave, be brave for me."  He gave her a kiss on the forehead.

Sarah nodded and stood on the outside as Tom sat down on the altar, nodded to her and lie down.

"I'm ready," he whispered. "Do it."

A bunch of hags and creepy looking dark wizards began the wizard and poured snake venom and blood on his body and covered his whole with a large snakeskin as if it were some kind of blanket.  There were snakes all around the altar, hissing and Tom was hissing back. Sarah wished he knew what he was telling them.  

"May your body be strong, your mind keen—" the cloaked witches and wizards started chanting.  

Tom thought of what they were saying in his head, over and over.  In his subconscious mind, he was talking to lord Voldemort.

"Today's the day," said Tom, "I'm finally becoming you."

"You've done well," Voldemort said.  "Thank you. I've waited for this."

"What?" Tom inquired.  "I don't understand."

"Now that you've brought me this far," Voldemort said, "I don't need you anymore.  I can take it from here."

"Wait a second," Tom said, "You're going to take the credit, aren't you?  First you take over my mind and now you think you can take over my body?  You wanted the glory only for yourself! I never should've listened to you!"  
Voldemort raised his hand and a glass cage went around Tom.  Tom began banging around the insides.

"This is an outrage!" Tom shouted. "This is mutiny! You can't do this for me! You can't!  I was going to have the power!  Why did you do this to me? I should've told Professor Dippet that you were in my head!"

"They would've sent you to St. Mungos, halfblood."

"Yes, and they would work you out of my head," Tom hissed. "Sarah was right!  You _are _my darker side!  I was never supposed to become you…I wasn't meant to become Voldemort, a monster.  I could've been Minster of Magic and you—you talked me out of it. You said I could be greater, but you were doing it for yourself!"  
"Oh, don't worry, Tom," Voldemort smiled, "I'm not going to kill you. See, you were kind enough to keep me resting and gaining energy in _your _mind, so now I'll let you stay in _mine. _You will see what life will be out through my eyes, halfblood.  Besides, think about Sarah—you really don't expect her to be strong if you did the ritual, now do you?"

"Sarah, what are you going to do to Sarah?" Tom demanded. "If you ever harm her!"

"Oh Sarah and I will have a wonderful time," Voldemort answered.  "Sarah will become my lady—every lord does need a lady—"

Tom continued to bang on the cage. "You're not going to get away with this! Somehow I'll be free!"

Voldemort walked to the main circle of Tom's mind to take over Tom's body and motions, like he was some kind of puppet master.  

"When the ritual is finished," Voldemort said, "Tom Riddle will die, and Lord Voldemort will be born!"

"No!" Tom yelled. "You cannot do this!"

_"Rise to power, Lord Voldemort!" _the circle of witches and wizards called out.

The snakeskin formed to Tom's body and Tom screamed in pain. Sarah moved toward him a witch grabbed him by the arms.

"Not yet, dearie,' she said,  "Your time will come."

"Tom's hurt!" Sarah cried.  "What's happening?  Something's wrong!  Is he supposed to feel this much pain?"

"Oh, pain is good," said the witch.

Tom started shaking and his arms and legs went ridged, his fingers curled up and his fingers grew into claws.  He grimaced in pain as the transformation came to a close and Voldemort took over Tom's once handsome body.

Not Tom the Orphan, the description of tall, dark and handsome anymore, but Voldemort, the man with a snake-like face, sat up from the altar and laughed.

"Ah, yes!" his voice was not like Tom's at all. It was high and cold.  "Finally…I've become my true identity."

"Tom?" said Sarah. "Are you all right?"

"Ssssarah," Voldemort stood up and a wizard put a new robe around him. Sarah gasped and put her hand to her mouth. His face was greenish-white, his eyes red and he was bald.  His fingers were long with two-inch long claws and his eyeteeth were fangs.  Sarah stepped back as Voldemort walked toward her and took her hand, bent down and kissed it, while all the while, now in Voldemort's mind, all Tom could do was watch.

"You get your lips off her!" he screamed. "How dare you take over my body like this?"

Voldemort laughed. "All right, my lady?  I'm more than all right!  I am better than I have ever been before...I can feel the power in my body…I feel so _alive!  _And I am not Tom Riddle anymore—I am Voldemort!_"  _

Voldemort embraced her and his skin felt rough, just like snake scales. Tom pushed against the glass cage with his shoulder.

"Sarah, it's a trick!" he cried. "Run, Sarah!  Why did I ever let him take me over?"

"Well now, my lady," said Voldemort, "I believe it is your turn. Don't be afraid."  He led her to the altar, picked her up and set her down on the altar. She was shivering in fear as she looked up in Voldemort's eyes. 

"How—how is this going to work?" Sarah asked.

"You shall see, my lady," said Voldemort, "my queen."

As they had used skins and blood from snakes for Tom, they used things from cats for Sarah.  Sarah was a real cat lover so Voldemort and the other wizards believed that the new form for Sarah should be catlike.  They put a skin of a tiger and a kneazle her body.  They started to chant things Sarah could not understand.

Tom sank down the glass cage, sobbing and wishing he had never allowed it to go this far.  He was going to sit here and watch this horrible thing happen to Sarah, his sweet Sarah.  Tom was going to live in the subconscious mind of Voldemort for now on and he may never get his real body back.  He wasn't even going to be doing the things Voldemort told him about. He was just going to sit here and watch like he was in a movie.

Sarah screamed as the transformation began and Tom sobbed even harder, crying out for her and telling her it was going to be all right.  Sarah's body shifted more catlike and her toes pointed, her fingernails became claws and her ears became pointed at the top of her head. Orange speckled and striped fur grew over her face and body and she grew a lion-like tail, just like a kneazles. Then it all stopped. 

"Arise, my lady," said Voldemort, rising over her head.  Sarah sat up and got of the altar and took a few steps. Walking was strange for her.  Her heels didn't touch the ground. She was on her toes. The witches put an elegant robe around her body and a necklace. They got down on their knees and kissed the lord and lady's robes.

"So, do you feel it?" Voldemort asked. "Do you feel the power?"

"Yes," Sarah replied.  Her pale green eyes had slits.  "Yes, my lord."

Tom gasped. _"No! No! _Sarah! What have you done to Sarah! You've turned her into a monster to!  You've bewitched her! How could you do this to my beautiful Sarah?"

"Now, will you hold out your left arm?" Voldemort asked and Sarah immediately obeyed.  "Good, my dear.  This may hurt just a bit."

"What will hurt?" Tom demanded, pressing against the glass. "What are you going to do?"

_"MESMORDE!"_

Sarah winced in pain as green light went through her fur and on her skin, creating a skull with a snake protruding from the mouth like a tongue. Tom screamed.

"No! It's that _thing! _That thing from my nightmare! And you put it on Sarah's arm. How dare you!  Take it off!"

"Sarah—" Voldemort hissed.  "It does not suit you anymore.  Sarah was the name you had when you were a squib and a squib you no longer are.  We must give you a new name."  
"And what would that be, my lord?" Sarah inquired, looking at her claws.

"Scratch," he replied.  "Lady Scratch."

"Scratch?" Tom gasped. "What kind of name is that? Like a cat scratching?  You turn her back right now!"

"Very well," said Sarah, now the Lady Scratch. "I will be named Scratch."

_God don't you know that I live with a ton_

_Of regret?_

_'Cause I used to move you in a way_

_That you've never known_

_But then I accused you in a way that_

_You've never known_

_But you hurt me in a way that I've _

_never known…_

--

Now that Voldemort was able to run amok in Tom Riddle's body, he took advantage of it.  He killed Sarah's aunt and uncle, the Bones. He killed the McKinnons and the Prewets and he killed many, many muggles. Lady Scratch became a killer too.  Once a squib with just an ounce of magic in her, she was now a very powerful witch.  She could run faster, jump higher and when she didn't use her wand to kill her victims, she used her claws. Voldemort called together more supporters, which he called Death Eaters.  Voldemort put the Dark Mark on the men's arm and they wore with pride.  The Death Eaters treated Lady Scratch like their queen and followed her every command just as they did Voldemort's.

But then, a decade later, Lady Scratch was hearing a girl in the back of her head. It was Sarah.

"I'm not supposed to be like this," she said. "Let me out of here!  It's not supposed to be this way!"

Lady Scratch turned to the glass frame Sarah was kept in.  "What was that you said, squib?"

"I want you to stop using my body to kill innocent people," Sarah hissed. "You killed my aunt and uncle!"

"They deserved it for abandoning you."

"That's not what happened," Sarah said.  "They probably had a very good reason not to adopt me. I don't' think they were ready to take in another child.  Perhaps they wanted me to investigate more about the muggle world for them. Perhaps they thought I'd be happy as a squib."

"You were never happy living as a powerless squib," Scratch said.

"I was too," Sarah said, "maybe I couldn't do real magic yet but I was trying.  You can't say I didn't try.  Maybe all I needed was time.  But I will tell you this, I was happy as a squib because I had Tom Riddle in my life and I know that _thing _is not Tom!  Tom would never do this.  I knew something happened to him ten years ago when he got on that alter. That wasn't him anymore. That was the dark wizard from his nightmares. And you—"

"Yes?"

"You're someone I made up," said Sarah.  "Because I love cats.  I wished I could have nine lives like a cat, walk silently like a cat—everything—"

"And now you do, so what is your problem, girl?"  
"But I'm doing those things. You are." Sarah muttered. "And I want my body back."

"You'll have to fight me for it," Scratch said.

"Fine," Sarah muttered.  "Let me out. You put my wand away."

"But it's in my hand."

"It's still mine. Tom bought that for me in Diagon Alley.  You have no right to be holding it."

Scratch sighed. "Oh, very well." She tossed it aside, walked to the glass cage and raised her claws. "Step back."

Sarah did so and shielded herself as Scratch drew her claws over the glass cage.  Sarah picked up a piece of glass, lunged at Scratch and plunged the shard into her heart.

"Back to my mind where you belong," said Sarah.

_"Noooooo!"_

Back in reality, Lady Scratch suddenly flinched and shook her head. Voldemort was speaking to his followers about killing more muggles.

"Count me out," said Scratch, but it was Sarah's voice. Scratch still had her catlike features and everything.

"What was that my lady?" Voldemort asked.

"I'm not your lady," said Sarah. "My name is Sarah Grimes and I want to be back the way I was."

Tom sat up in his glass prison. "Sarah? How?"

"I know you have Tom trapped in your mind somewhere, Voldemort," Sarah muttered, "and I want you to free him.  You're not Tom.  Tom would never do these things. You're that monster from his nightmares, his darker side.  You haunted his life.  I want Tom back now!"

"Tom Riddle was a worthless halfblood."

"That may be but I still loved him," Sarah said, raising her wand. "Don't make me do this. I know Tom is still there somewhere.  You've turned Tom into a bully, a killer, an animal…a _monster! _And he's always hated those things! You've turned him into the Adolf Hitler of the wizard world and I will _never _forgive you.  I want out of this circle. I want my old body back."

The Death Eaters raised their wands at Sarah but Voldemort told them to put them down and have him handle this.

"My lady, you are not well," Voldemort said, "You must rest a while."

"I've been resting in the back of your lady's head long enough," said Sarah.  

"You should thank me, squib," Voldemort hissed. "I took care of you.  I brought you into my world. I gave you a wand.  I sent for the Kwikspell Course for you.  I killed your muggle father for you.

"No you did not," Sarah said, "Tom Marvolo Riddle did those things.  You realize, when this is all over, there will be nothing left.  You made Tom think that he could never have enough power, but it was _you _the whole time that wanted it!  What will happen to Tom when this is done, huh?  When you have a war between the wizard world and the muggle world. Everyone will die and you…you will be alone!  Tom will be alone! You took his soul away! I am not going to stand for it!  No way!  You let Tom go, you monster!"

Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it between her eyes.  "I should kill you for betraying me, squib."

"Fine," Sarah said. "Go ahead.  Maybe that will be best."

_"No!" _Tom shouted.  "Don't hurt her!  Don't hurt Sarah!"  He walked to the end of the cage and ran toward the glass and pounded against it with all his might to get free.  He pushed and pushed and finally it gave and he fell out on the floor.

"I'm not going to let you hurt her!" Tom ran to Voldemort and seized his own wand.

"What do you think you are doing, squib?" Voldemort demanded.

Tom punched Voldemort in his ugly face and pointed it at him.  "You say there!" He conjured ropes to tie Voldemort up and he stood on the circle to make Voldemort's body move.

"Sarah, I'm so sorry I brought you into this," Tom said sadly.  He made Voldemort's head turn to the Death Eaters. "Wands down! Get the hell out of here! NOW! I command you to leave!"

Giving each other double takes, the Death Eaters disaparated.

"Tom?" Sarah blinked.  "Tom, is that you?"

_"Converto Amen Capio!"_

Sarah gasped and the fur began to shrink back into skin, claws into fingernails, fangs into teeth, her heels touched the ground and her catlike ears changed human and Tom was looking into the beautiful face of Sarah was again.

"Tom?"

_"Obliterate!"_

Sarah's memory was taken away completely of what happened to her, her time at the orphanage, and yes, even her memory of Tom.

"What have you done, half-blood?" Voldemort demanded.  

"I'm giving Sarah a second chance," Tom retorted, bending down to Sarah and picking her up.  "You're never going to hurt her again, you hear me?  I'm going to find away to come back to my old self somehow."

He stroked Sarah's' face. "Sarah…I'm so sorry."

Voldemort growled and tried to rip out of the ropes.  "Fool!"

Tom used Voldemort's arms to carry Sarah to the village and he set her at the front doors of the hospital, kissed Sarah goodbye on the forehead and started to leave before anyone saw his grotesque face.  Voldemort freed himself from the ropes and lunged at Tom.

"You won't stop me from gaining power!" Voldemort shouted.  "I won't let you, half-blood!"

"There are more important things than power!" Tom cried back. "Honesty! Justice! Love!"

"You are wrong. There is no good and evil—only power—and those too weak to seek it!"

"You're the meaning of evil!" Tom yelled as Voldemort grabbed him by the throat and hit him against the wall of his mind.  "You enter my head, take over my body and you use it to do horrible things!"

"Then sleep, half-blood," Voldemort smirked, "_sleep!"_

Tom gritted his teeth and tried to pry Voldemort's hands away from his throat.

_"Resopio!"_

"I…I feel…so tired…so tired…"Tom's eyes grew heavy, his whole body went limp and he fell to the floor in a deep sleep.

"Yes, sleep, half-blood," Voldemort created a clear box to go around Tom's sleeping body. "Now you can finally sleep and have good dreams about you…and your squib…while you will be in dream land, I will be using your body to gain power in reality!"

_Break me shake me hate me _

_Take me over_

_When the madness stops then you_

_Will be alone_

--

A week later, Sarah woke up in a hospital with no idea who she was.  She looked around the room she was in.

"How—how did I get here?" she asked herself. "Where am I?"

A nurse walked into the room with a tray of food. "Ah, you're awake. How are you feeling dear?"

"What happened to me?" Sarah asked. "How did I get here?"

"We found you outside the hospital," the nurse answered. "I believe you must've fainted."

"I don't remember fainting," said Sarah.

"Well, you wouldn't would you?"

"I don't remember anything," Sarah added.  "Who am I? How did I get here?"

"Here, eat your lunch and I'll get the doctor," she set the tray down for her.

Sarah picked up her fork and began to eat.  A little later, she asked if she could move around a bit.  An orderly came with a wheelchair and wheeled her around the hospital. Sarah noticed a room blocked up with a sign that said _DO NOT ENTER._

"Why does that sign say 'do not enter?'" Sarah asked the orderly.

"I wasn't here when it happened," he replied, "but a woman died giving birth in that room. It was really freaky.  The lights went out and everything. They took the mother down to the morgue, the baby to the orphanage and no one has been inside the room ever since. We think there's an evil spirit there or something."

After the orderly showed her around the hospital and she came back to her room, she found sleep difficult.  Sarah kept thinking about that room. She was drawn to it somehow. Sarah stepped out of her hospital room and searched for the locked room.  She forced it open and stepped inside. The hair stood up on the back of her neck.  The room was a mess. The light bulbs were smashed and she could hear what took place here years and years ago. She heard nurses screaming, _"Carrie! Carrie!" _

She heard a baby crying and the mother making hissing and spitting noises. Sarah stepped on something and bent down to look at it. IT was a book, a diary that had Carrie's name on it. Sarah picked it up, took it to her own room to read it and a piece of paper fell out.  Sarah evened it out.

_My name is Carrie Star and I am a witch.  My mother was a veela and she left my wizard father when I was a little girl.  I didn't like the idea of looking like a veela so I curled my hair and changed my hair to golden blond to cover the silver, but I still had silver streaks.  All the boys wanted to be with them but I didn't like all the boys.  There was this boy named Darien Malfoy and he would never leave me alone.  He wanted me to marry him. My father wanted to marry him but I wanted to marry for love._

_My best subject in magic school was divination. For my divination final, my divination professor told me to look in the crystal ball and told her what I saw.  I saw a boy with black hair and my eyes, my son, becoming a powerful wizard.  He was going to do very bad things and I did not want that for him. I did not want to be the mother of a monster.  So I found the Chamber of Secrets and tried to seal it so he would never find it.  I married a muggle so there will be less chances of my son becoming this monster.  I could raise him and tell him not to seek too much power and be happy with what he has.  I would be proud of him enough if he just became prefect or head boy. He did not have to open the Chamber of Secrets and kill a girl to prove himself. He did not have to kill his father.  Tom Marvolo Riddle will be enough as the Minister of Magic.  I don't want people to hate and fear my boy.   It will kill me.  I will die because I don't want to watch my son become a monster._

Sarah folded the letter. She did not know why, but she had a feeling she heard the name Tom before. She felt like she knew a Tom Marvolo Riddle.  It was the strangest thing, but even though she did not know him, she probably did before she lost her memory.  Sarah will always remain—though she could not remember—the girl who loved Tom Riddle.

**The End (sorry this chapter was so long)**

**Synopsis:**

**Well, Tom probably did not fall in love with a squib but I wanted someone that did not grow up with magic to love him so he would not feel so angry toward muggles. I don't' think the day Tom came to Hogwarts and was placed in Slytherin House, he thought, 'well, I think I will live up to my title as Heir of Slytherin and start killing everybody!'  I'm pretty sure Tom was a good boy.  He was just mixed up in the wrong crowd.  ::coughs:: Alaric Malfoy…Alaric Malfoy! Alaric was brought up badly and he was a bad influence on Tom.  Tom was exposed to the cheating and lying and the bad habits of the Slytherin crowd.  I also think Voldemort is his darker side, another personality of his that came from all his hurt and pain and his negative feelings.  Voldemort tricked him into becoming You-Know-Who and he took him over. Voldemort made Tom think that he couldn't have enough greatness.  After getting good marks, he had to be prefect, Minister of Magic then the Heir of Slytherin, then Head Boy, then the most powerful sorcerer in the world and so on. To me, Tom isn't an evil kid, just a misunderstood boy and also on the list of Voldemort's reasons.  Actually, Tom is his number one victim. He suffered more than Harry did. At least Harry Potter had two parents who loved him.  Tom grew up in an orphanage with a lot of people who hated and misunderstood him.  I don't think Tom became You-Know-Who, I really think Tom is trapped in Voldemort's mind and when Voldemort dies, and Tom will be free. AT least, that's how I hope it turns out because I've become quite attached to Tom Marvolo Riddle while writing this story!  ::dabs eyes:: poor Tom!  Voldemort tricked him! If you've heard this song by Savage Garden, you might agree with me that the lyrics fit with Tom.  Voldemort took him over, played mind games with him, broke home, shook him, hated him and took him over and Voldemort will end up alone…in fact, he did after trying to kill Harry Potter, didn't he?**

**Also, the way Moaning Myrtle doesn't make a lot of sense.  She says Olive Hornby was teasing her and she hid, then Tom happens to walk in and sic the basilisk on her. How did he know she was there?  Maybe Olive Hornby wasn't Tom's girlfriend, but I don't think her teasing Myrtle and Myrtle dying was just a coincidence.  I know that there was something more to it.**

**This will be my last story for a while until more books come out.  I will be in London serving a mission for my church for a year and a half. It's going to be a blast!  Yay! London! Maybe I'll meet the cast of HP!**


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